Law & Order: The Dark Knights
by The Congressman
Summary: Crossover with The Dark Knight. Sequel to L&O: Batman and Batgirl Begin; For three years, Bruce and Olivia have been fighting the underworld as Batman and Batgirl. With Elliot Stabler leading MCU, and a new DA taking the fight straight to the Mob, the end seems near. However, when a shadowy villain sets his sights on our two heroes, can they stop him before he destroys everything?
1. Chapter 1: Brave New World

**A/N: Hello, and welcome to my second fanfic. If you haven't read the previous installment, I recommend that you do. It's awesome and will explain a whole lot.**

**For my faithful readers, the Joker is finally here, so "Put a smile on that face!" ;) However, I'm including another very famous Batman villain in my adaptation of the Nolan/SVU trilogy, so watch out Bruce and Liv.**

**Just a few notes. It's three years since the last story, which will be in 2004. It's 2007 right now, and Olivia is struggling with her feelings. Bruce is growing increasingly alone, walling himself off from most of the world, except for Olivia and Alfred. He still hopes that Alex can help him become the man that he was, but is fearful nonetheless. I plan to change the entire emotional dynamic of TDK since we have an unknowing Love Triangle. Don't worry, it will still be epic.**

**Disclaimer: Do you see the Joker on SVU? If not, I don't own either.**

**Read, review, and don't be shy to send me advice. I welcome it.**

"**Why so serious?" Enjoy!**

**LAW & ORDER: THE DARK KNIGHTS**

Chapter 1: Brave New World

A lot had changed since our two heroes had foiled Ra's al Ghul and the League of Shadows. The citizens of Gotham, shaken out of their fear and apathy, turned on the incumbent power structure. In the 2005 municipal elections, they cast out the incumbent mayor, electing Matthew D Garcia of the fusion ticket (A/N: _New York City allows candidates to run on multiple party lines_) and a City Council filled with his allies. Pledging to clean house in the GPD, he allied with Commissioner John Munch to create the new Major Crimes Unit to take over the responsibilities of Organized Crime and Special Victims. As its head, Munch appointed the Hero Cop, Captain Elliot Stabler, with Lieutenant Olivia Benson as his second in command. Together, the famous and indefatigable Benson and Stabler selected the cream of the crop, cops they knew and could trust. Over the year and a half of its existence, MCU became like a family, free of the constant paranoia and backstabbing that characterized the rest of the GPD.

In 2006, the voters elected Harvey Dent as their new District Attorney in a tight race, and he proved a dogged advocate for justice upon taking office. Newspapers and networks across the country were hailing him as the "White Knight," hopeful he could save the city. If his first few months were any indication, he was on the right track.

Meanwhile, under the leadership of President Lucius Fox, Wayne Enterprises was making record profits. The massive scandal that ended with the indictment and conviction of former President William Earle on numerous Federal charges had been weathered, and Fox's massive expansion of both the domestic and military ventures raked in money, causing the Gotham economy to boom and providing the many charities of the city with much needed funds. Numerous foreign companies were beseeching Fox for joint ventures, including BAE Systems, Mitsubishi, and the Lau Investment Group.

In the underworld, things were going downhill for the criminals for the first time since before the Warren Court. Smashed by Batman and Batgirl and under the relentless pressure from Stabler and Benson in the MCU, they were forced to watch as their once proud empire was slowly dying. Out of city criminal syndicates, once flocking to invest in Gotham, were pulling out, citing fear of the Caped Crusaders. As Franco Tordemasi of _La Cosa Nostra_ in New York told Sal Maroni, his Gotham City counterpart, "If you think I'm going to be bat chow, ya' can forget it!" Things were almost unraveling, and the once omnipotent bosses were reaching the point of desperation.

With all of this going on, one criminal was having success in this Brave New World. He was an enigma to all, the mob, the cops, even the Batman and Batgirl. Starting his crimes in the winter of 2005 (January), he started small and worked his way up, collecting a large body count but low profile as he went along. All he left in his tracks was his signature, a single playing card. It was the great Elliot Stabler that gave him his name, a name which would prove infamous in the coming months:

The Joker

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A lone figure in a cheap purple three-piece suit stood on the corner of Fifth and Linseed, gazing at the pedestrians. Clutched in this strange man's hands was a mask from a nameless costume shop, part of a matching set of dozens. It was of a clown, sort of an impulse buy on his part. He was the type of man who did things like that often. Some said he was crazy, but he knew differently.

His cold eyes, a shade so dark they could be considered black, kept most people at a distance. 'They don't know who I am,' he thought. 'That's good; the time has to be right. When the time comes though, no one will be able to forget.'

Hearing the squeal of a tire on asphalt, the man turned his head around. The van sped to where he waited. Smirking, he donned the mask quickly, running up to the sliding door with a large duffel slung on his back.

"Well, at least one of us is on time," the driver said snidely, glaring at the man in the passenger seat through his mask.

"Just go already!" the other man shouted, eager to get this job over and done with.

About a block away, two other men, also with clown masks covering their faces readied a grapple gun from the window of an unfinished skyscraper. Taking careful aim, Chuckles (A/N: _I'm giving the clown henchmen names based on their masks to differentiate them_) shot the grapple at the adjacent building across the street right through the glass. Tugging on the rope to make sure it was nice and taut, both slung a zip line and careened toward the other building. Chuckles landed on his feet while Bozo skidded on the gravel, landing on his ass.

Back in the car, the trio was loading their weapons. Grumpy pulled out a Uzi submachine gun, Dopey in the back loaded his Glock machine pistol, while Happy patted his Berretta 9mm. "Three of a kind, let's do this!" growled Happy.

"That's it?" asked Grumpy. "Just three guys?"

"No you dumbass! Were you asleep during the entire prep session? You have us three, and then two guys on the roof!" he shouted, pronouncing roof like 'ruff.' "We divide the share equally, that's five shares. Plenty to go around."

Grumpy shook his head. "You mean six; don't forget the guy who planned the whole shebang."

Snorting with disgust, Happy snarled back, "Coward thinks he can sit back all safe and sound and still take a slice. That's not gonna' fucking happen!"

"Did you ever see the guy?"

"Nah, but I heard about him from around. I know why they call him the Joker."

"So why do they call him the Joker?" asked Chuckles to Bozo on the roof.

"I heard it's cause he wears makeup," replied the other clown, grabbing his laptop and hacking set.

Chuckles, confused, swung a hammer at the lock for a control box, hearing it crack in two. "Makeup? Like one of those trannies?" He slid the broken lock off and opened the box.

"Nah, not like that! It's to scare people; you know, like war paint."

"That makes sense, considering what I heard about this guy. He's intense."

"Hey, that's one of the reasons I signed up for this job. I like intense."

Screeching to the curb, the three clowns piled out of the vehicle and sprinted to the two solid oak doors of Gotham National Bank, Dopey swiveling his head to make sure there weren't any cops. They'd come eventually, but for now, he wasn't keen on inviting them to the party. They weren't players in his little scheme. 'Not yet anyway,' he thought with an evil giggle. All inside the bank, they charged to the line of tellers, passing a row of offices. Grumpy fired a long burst with the Uzi in the air. "Alright, everyone on the ground!"

The customers and employees alike crowding the main floor did as ordered, several screaming and muttering prayers to God. Bank President Kenneth Cleary, looking quietly from his office window, overlooking the main hall, observed the situation. Grumpy was busy shouting threats, waving the Uzi above his head like a kid playing Cowboys and Indians. Dopey was grabbing gear from one of the duffels while Happy began to advance on the tellers.

"Hands up, and heads down everybody! Come here pal, I'm making a withdrawal!" he snarled angrily, pulling the teller over the counter and threw him on the floor roughly. The female teller right next to him quickly pushed the silent alarm button underneath her desk before Happy advanced on her. "What part of hands up do you not understand lady!"

"Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…" she mumbled.

"I said SHUT UP!" he screamed, pulling her out of the back too, not realizing he had sent for help.

Luckily for the clown gang, they came prepared for situations like this. "There's the silent alarm," said Bozo cheerfully, now delighted to showcase his skills. He pressed a button on his laptop. "And there it goes." Chuckles felt the burner cell in his pocket vibrate, the signal diverted to it. He gave Bozo a thumbs up.

"Don't hurt me! I have two kids, please…"

"I said shut up!" Happy was getting sick of these idiot civilians. Didn't they know how to fucking obey orders! Dopey grabbed several frag grenades out of the duffel and began putting them in the hostages' hands, pulling the pin on each and every one of them. "Obviously we don't want you to do anything with your hands except hold on for dear life," he said with amusement in his voice. The only hope of not getting turned into Swiss cheese by hundreds of sharp fragments for the hostages was to hold on to the cap tightly so as not to arm the grenade.

'They are so eager,' thought Dopey of his comrades. 'They relish the game but do not have the right motivation. Such people who do are rare in this world.' He knew they were out there, but in his many travels he hadn't yet met one of his peers, not a single one. That gave him the responsibility to make sure this city knew what their choice was, and at the right time, he would be the only one who could give it to them. He was looking forward to it.

"That's funny," remarked Bozo on the roof.

"What?"

"The alarm wasn't sent to 911. They rerouted the system to reach a private number."

"Is it a problem?" asked Chuckles, reaching into his jacket.

"Nah, I'm done here. Let's… urgh!" Chuckles shot him in the spine nonchalantly, watching Bozo crumple to the gravel. He grabbed the bags and ran inside, heading for the vault. Once there, he grabbed out his gear, setting it up. He was about to start drilling when several thousand volts surged through his system.

"Nobody make a move! Nobody!" Too concentrated on creating terror in the hearts of the hostages, Grumpy didn't notice Kenneth Cleary behind him, grabbing something out of his desk. Swiveling around, he aimed his SPAS-12 twelve gauge shotgun. "Stay down! I said stay…" Cleary fired off a round of buckshot right in his back, killing Grumpy instantly.

Cleary chambered another round in, working the pump action. Happy and Dopey both scrambled for cover, Cleary firing off round after round. "Do you have any idea who you're fucking stealing from? You and your asshole friends are dead!"

"Is he out?" asked Happy, to which Dopey nodded his head. Happy rose to get off a shot when Cleary fired his last round, grazing the clown. Dopey rose and fired off a three round burst, getting the banker in the shoulder and shin. "Where did you learn to count?" growled an irate Happy. Dopey just shrugged and glared at Cleary. 'Naive fool.'

Happy burst through the doors to the vault entrance. "They wired this thing up with at least five thousand volts," remarked Chuckles, making the finishing touches on the combination locks. "What kind of bank does this anyway?"

"A mob bank. Who else would keep a suspected rapist on the payroll, as the president no less?" He opened the tarp he was carrying, revealing several bunched up duffels for carrying the loot. "I guess the Joker is as crazy as everyone says, and getting bolder by the day. Where's the alarm guy?"

"Boss said once he was done I should take him out." Chuckles turned the lock, opening the vault. "One less share am I right?"

"Funny, in a sick sort of way, though I believe he told me something similar."

"What? NO WAIT!" Happy shot him in the face. He opened the vault and started shoving the stacks of twenties and fifties into the bags.

"That's a lot of money," said Happy as they dragged it to the main hall. "If he was smart, the Joker should have given us a bigger car." Dopey turned his head only to hear the cock of a hammer. "You think I'm stupid? I bet the Joker told you to kill me soon as we loaded the cash!"

Dopey tilted his head. "No," he whispered in an annoying voice that sounded somewhat like Heath Ledger with a head cold (A/N: _wink_), looking at his watch. "I kill the bus driver."

"Bus driver? What bus driver!" Out of nowhere the rear of a school bus smashed through the wall and ran right over Happy, his body crushed under the wheels.

"Ouch!" quipped the bus driver, stepping out the rear door. "That guy's not getting up is he?" Dopey shook his head and started passing him the moneybags. "What happened to the rest of the guys?" Dopey responded by cutting him down with a hail of bullets.

"You think you're so smart," gasped Cleary, making the last clown turn and saunter to him. "The guy that hired youse, he'll just do the same to you. I remembered the day when criminals used to believe in things. Honor; respect; protecting the vulnerable; what do you believe in huh? WHAT DO YOU BELIEVE IN?!" The clown cut him off with a grenade shoved in his mouth.

"I believe, that whatever doesn't kill you, simply makes you…" He pulled off his mask, revealing a face painted white, with dark shades around his eyes and red lipstick smeared on his mouth, angling upward on two massive scars to form a smile. "Stranger," finished the Joker after a long pause, tongue quickly licking the side of his mouth like a snake. "And one day, all of you will know it." He giggled mischievously and left, hopping into the bus. He drove out just in time to catch the daily after school procession, just moments before the GPD arrived on scene.

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Leaning on an air-conditioning unit on the roof of the 1-6 precinct, a cup of black coffee in his hands to ward off the tendrils of sleep, Captain Elliot Stabler, Gotham City MCU, stared at the night sky, his gaze fixed on the twin-bat symbol the searchlight was projecting. It was unofficial and hush-hush, but everyone knew it existed. Luckily for Elliot, Commissioner Munch had a soft spot for him, so as long as the Batman and Batgirl kept their focus on the criminals, unofficial policy was to work with them as needed.

"Hey there Cap." Elliot shifted his gaze from the sky to see Detective Danielle "Dani" Beck, his newest rookie. Selected by him and Olivia personally, MCU was like a family, close knit and very protective. Ed Tucker, probably the only honest shark in IAB, did the background screenings on each and every one of the applicants for formality's sake, but Elliot knew he could trust every man and woman under his command with his life (Olivia, with her dark past, still could only trust him that way, though it hadn't cause a problem yet). "Cap? You ok?"

Elliot snapped out of his daze and smiled at Dani. "Yeh, I'm fine Dani. It's just even after three years, I still haven't gotten used to being called Cap. Too much time as a plain Detective I guess."

The butter-blonde detective smiled at him. "With luck, one day I'll be able to think the same thing."

"You're a good cop, just like the rest of the unit. We wouldn't have picked you if that wasn't the case." Elliot made it a prerogative to make sure his command knew he respected and trusted them; he had that very relationship with Munch back in the bad old days; he also experienced what it was like to have Captains who didn't give a damn about anyone but themselves, and hated those people. A leader must have the admiration of his subordinates to be a good one. "So why aren't you home? Shouldn't you be taking care of Jack?"

Her face fell, looking out at the Gotham skyline. "Had to check him back in the hospital."

"Sorry to hear that," Elliot said, putting a comforting hand on Dani's shoulder. Jack Beck was a cop too, until getting stricken with chronic cancer. He had been in and out of hospitals for the past two years, and Dani was always worrying about him.

Composing herself, Dani reformed her smile. "What about you Cap? Don't you have four kids at home?"

"Three, now that Maureen's in college." 'Jesus,' he thought, 'Where has the time gone?' Maureen was out of the house, Kathleen was shopping for the prom, and the twins were thirteen; it felt like yesterday when they were all babies in his arms. "I called Kathy, said I'd be there in the morning. She understands; might not be happy but she understands."

"You sent the Lieutenant home, so why not yourself?" she queried with a slight edge in her voice. She and Olivia hadn't been getting along quite well for some reason.

"Liv deserved a night off after solving the Riddler case. Now that Merritt Rook is going to jail for twenty-five years, she can relax for twenty-four hours." He chuckled at his little pun.

"I guess," mumbled Dani, as if that was a hard enough admission in and of itself. Trying to change the subject, she pointed at the searchlight. "You think they'll come?"

Elliot shrugged, "Maybe, maybe not. Sometimes I leave it on just to sweat the scum a little, let them and the City know they're out there."

"Yeh, and I pity the poor bastards they'll be visiting tonight." At that moment, both of their cell phones went off. Dani answered her's first, "Beck? Alright Fin, I'm coming." She hung up. "That was Fin. He wants me at Gotham National Bank."

"Well I just got a call from the Commissioner. He wants me there too, which means you're driving." At least he wouldn't be bored tonight; he liked keeping himself busy to remind others he wasn't some pencil pusher. He also hoped that the Batman and Batgirl would be busy tonight. An evil grin crossed his lips at the thought.

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Pacing back and forth, glancing at his watch every ten seconds as if it helped, Marko Arkadyavich "The Chechen" Aleksayev (A/N: _Russians have a three part name: First name; Father's name followed by a 'avich'; and last name_) was getting annoyed. "Where is Sal?" he yelled at his accountant. "He said he'd be here ten minutes ago!" The accountant stammered for a moment before Aleksayev threw up his hands in disgust. "_Oyobok_ – Fucking Retard!" What was the use of controlling the entire Russian underground in Gotham if all his people were idiots?

Two elegant, black Lincoln Town Cars pulled onto the fourth floor of the parking garage, the shine of the metal reflecting the glare of the fluorescent lights. "Finally! He's here." The grim _Mafioso_ guards stepped out of the first Town Car, walking toward the second and holding open the door. "_Govno_ – shit!" muttered Aleksayev upon seeing the man who exited the vehicle. "Penguin! Where is Moroni?"

Grinning, a lit cigarette poking out of his signature long holder, Oswald Chesterfield "Penguin" Cobblepot waddled his portly frame over to Aleksayev. "Nice to see you too Marko Arkadyavich, waugh, waugh, waugh." Aleksayev took the proffered hand, shaking it firmly. Though the tuxedo clad, big-nosed homunculus irritated the hell out of him with his infernal squawking, the Underboss of the Falcone Crime Family was not a man to take lightly.

"So where's Moroni?"

Penguin adjusted his monocle, tapping the ground with his umbrella. "Ol' Sal is indisposed at the moment. You see, he has a little misunderstanding with the DA tomorrow, though I've made sure it'll be wrapped up, waugh, waugh, waugh."

"That is good excuse," conceded Aleksayev, running a hand through his slick hair.

"So has Darius arrived yet?" asked Penguin, puffing on his cigarette.

"No, he said he couldn't make it."

"Whaaat!" screeched Penguin, sounding like an irate eagle. "He has all the heavy weapons with him! What if the supplier or other parties," all knew who he meant by that, "Decide to crash the party?"

"That is why we bring dogs," boomed Aleksayev, walking to the back of his Cadillac Escalade, rubbing the muzzles of three impressive looking Rottweilers. "My little princes," he coos in thickly accented English. Penguin rolls his eyes and whistles. Out of the car flew his personal falcon, Cornelius, who perched itself on his arm.

Just then, a white van whooshed passed them and stopped about five yards ahead. "They're here. Marko Arkadyavich, do you mind producing the nut?"

"Gladly," said Aleksayev, detaching himself from his dogs and motioning to his men. They pulled a shaking man out of a second Escalade.

"Please no!" he screamed in terror. "They're in my mouth! Get them off." A burly Russian threw him on the ground, giving him a kick in the ribs to shut him up.

The two organizations stared at the van, armed guards toting submachine guns piling out, a shadowy figure remaining in the back. "Huang!" shouted Aleksayev. "Look what your drugs did to my customers!"

"Buyer beware," droned Dr. George "Scarecrow" Huang, MD turned drug manufacturer and supplier. "I told you my compound would take you places," he quipped, stepping out of the back of the van, clad in his trademark mask. "I never said they'd be places you wanted to go."

"Our business depends on repeat customers Scarecrow," clucked Penguin acidly, tired of self-righteous swine trying to roll him over. He might look like a penguin, but he was smarter than all of them. It had been his cunning that kept the organizations in business since Batman, Batgirl, and MCU began their inquisition against them. 'I deserve some fucking respect!' "They can't buy our supply if they go looney toons after the first snort!"

"If you don't like what I have to offer, you are welcome to buy from someone else," replied Huang dryly, his voice devoid of emotion. "Assuming Batman and Batgirl left anyone to buy from."

The dogs chose that moment to start barking loudly, causing the assembled criminals to start looking for the cause. "Speak of the devil!" yelled one of the _Mafioso_. In the corner stood the shadowy figure that looked an awful lot like the Batgirl. Penguin wasn't about to jump the gun though. There were a lot of copycats out there. He would lie back until the situation revealed itself.

Aleksayev was far bolder however. "Pity there's only one of you!"

A grunt came from one of Scarecrow's goons, knocked out by a Batman, arms ready to spar. Soon after, another Batman and two Batgirls arrived out of nowhere. "Which ones are them?" asked a goon to Scarecrow. The first Batgirl aimed a shotgun and fired at the Russians.

"That's not them," said Huang, calm and emotionless as ever. The copycats all drew guns, a mixture of automatics, semiautomatics, and shotguns. The cackle of submachine gun fire echoed through the entire parking garage.

"Release the dogs!" yelled Aleksayev, a 9mm Grach pistol in his hand. The Rottweilers charged, barking at the Batman wielding an Uzi, leaping on top of him and tearing at his clothing.

"Show everyone what you can do Cornelius," said Penguin to his falcon, releasing him. The bird of prey spotted one of the Batgirls charging at his master. Diving, he let out a shriek that alerted Penguin, who pressed a button on his umbrella. The Batgirl struggled to fight off the falcon, busy trying to claw her eyes out, when she noticed Penguin. "Graw!" he yelled, stabbing at her with the umbrella's tip. Five thousand volts coursing through her body, the taser built into the tip did its job, and she toppled to the pavement, convulsing. "Let's get out of here gentlemen," he shouted, rearranging his top hat as he climbed in his vehicle, Cornelius following him. The Town Cars sped out of the building, the Russians and Scarecrow's goons still fighting the copycats.

Though two were knocked out, the three remaining copycats had enough firepower to give back as good as they got. On top of this, the innate distrust between the Russians and Scarecrow's goons caused them to fire at each other as well, creating a three-way OK Corral. Buckshot and bullets flew all over the place, hitting cars, walls, asphalt, and human bodies indiscriminately. One Batgirl approached Huang, a Colt M1911 in her hands, but the masked doctor sprayed her with his fear gas, ending that threat.

CRASH! THUMP! Rolling onto the track was the Tumbler, majestic in the beauty of raw power and aesthetic fearsomeness. "That's more like it," Huang said dispassionately.

Russians and Scarecrow goons alike opened fire on the Tumbler, pouring automatic weapons fire at the dreaded vehicle. The Tumbler's steel/depleted Uranium composite armor laughed off the puny assault, but its vaunted automated control system was not programed to respond in kind.

"I think it's time to go _Tovarishi_ – Comrades," said Aleksayev, his two top bodyguards getting in the Escalade. He would miss his dogs, but he had nearly a dozen back at his affluent South Hills home. About his men, well, men grew on trees. They'd be easy to replace; there were plenty of ex-Red Arm Spetznaz looking for a steady paying gig.

Just lying there for nearly thirty seconds, the goons and Russians began to gawk and laugh at the Tumbler, convinced this was all some joke. The fire control computer, set to loiter, instantly switched to intimidate, lobbing a pair of Mark 19 Grenades straight at one of the parked cars. The explosive grenades set off the gas tank, which went up in a great cloud of red-orange flame. Russians, goons, and copycats alike toppled over by the blast force, disorientated and confused. Huddled in their Escalade, Aleksayev and his guards decided to get the hell out of Dodge, and sped away toward the exit.

The third Batman copycat, figuring now was as good a time as any, approached the Russians, M-14 assault rifle at the ready. He was about to fire when a strong hand reached out and grabbed the muzzle, bending it in a right angle. With a well-placed chop, Batman knocked out the copycat. A Russian charged him with a set of brass knuckles, but Batgirl dropped from the upper level, taking him out with a swinging kick. A pair of goons pointed their AK-74 folding-stock carbines at the two but both jinked and weaved with honed agility. Batman smashed one with a right hook to the jaw, the AK-74 chattering to the left, while Batgirl brought her stun knuckles on the goon's shoulder, paralyzing it. While he howled in pain, she kneed him in the groin, watching the goon topple to the floor in agony.

A screech caused Batgirl to swivel her head around, hard to do in with the thick padding of her cowl. Huang was speeding away, the white van charging toward the spiral exit ramp. 'Oh hell no!' she thought. Penguin and Aleksayev had already eluded their grasp, but Scarecrow wouldn't. Breaking out into a run, leaving Batman to deal with the remaining thugs and copycats, she booked for the side of the van, activating her metal gripping hooks on her wristcuffs.

Tilting the steering wheel as far to the right as possible, Scarecrow put the van into a tight turn in order to line up with the exit ramp. The side slammed into Batgirl, who gripped the top, the rough texture of her gloves providing the adhesion necessary. Holding herself with one arm, she plunged the gripping hooks into the aluminum siding, trying to slice her way through. The metal gave like it was paper, but it took all her strength, and the motions of the van didn't help matters much. Noticing her struggles in the side mirror, Scarecrow rocked the van back and forth, slamming it against the concrete and steel railings. Just in time, Batgirl raised her legs before the van could pin them between it and the rail.

Back on the upper level, Batman was in the zone. Having dispatched the last of Scarecrow's goons, he hurled a Batarang at one of the Batgirl copycats (the one firing the shotgun). She toppled with a shriek, the shotgun flying through the air. Batman caught it and smashed the butt into a Russian's face, knocking him out. A second Russian lunged with a knife, but he swerved out of the way and wheeled around, hitting him in the stomach before smacking his head against the iron rail. Finding the last of the Batman copycats being subdued by two of Aleksayev's men, he chucked two more Batarangs, incapacitating the Russians before they killed the copycat.

To the right, the three Rottweilers were busy trying to rip the first Batman copycat limb from limb. Aiming his grapple gun, Batman fired, hooking the lookalike on his cape, pulling him away from the dogs and cuffing him. The dogs, snarling that their new toy was taken away, leapt at Batman, jaws wide and dripping with slobber. Batman knocked one to the side, but the second clamped both jaws firmly on his upper arm, biting straight through the supposedly firm armor. He gritted his teeth and, though it hurt like a bitch, pulled the dog off and threw it to the side. The third, obviously sensing it couldn't win, lowered its head and scampered away.

'One loose end left,' thought Batman. Walking to the edge, he noticed his partner struggling to take down Scarecrow. With the last lookalike watching him with awe (these were the ultra-fans), Batman raised himself up on the rail, plotting the right time to strike. When that moment presented itself, he jumped and landed right as the van drove under him. The roof was smashed, knocking out Huang.

Olivia, panting, stared angrily at her partner. "I didn't need your help!" she spat.

"I disagree," replied Bruce calmly, a smirk on his face.

"Cocky bastard," muttered Olivia, rolling her eyes. 'I love him to death but God, that man can get under my skin!'

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Not ten minutes later, Bruce and Olivia had cuffed and tied up seventeen assorted criminals: Scarecrow, six of his goons, four Russians, and six copycats (all but two unconscious, with one of the two convulsing from Penguin's umbrella/taser). Bruce pulled off the burlap mask, revealing Huang's smug smirk, as if he's amused at the whole situation. "The police have been after you for a while Huang," he growled. They might have failed to get Penguin or Aleksayev, but they got him.

"I'm so sorry to have inconvenienced the 'incorruptible' folks of the GPD," said Huang sarcastically (as if you could hear the quotes around incorruptible), the smirk not leaving his face. "But if they were competent, they may have caught me earlier." Olivia tightened the restraints on his wrists, causing him to wince slightly.

"Shut up," she hissed. Not hearing a response from the former doctor, she turned to the last Batman copycat left conscious. "Don't let us find you out here again." She and Bruce turned and walked toward the open hatched Tumbler.

"But we're trying to help you!" he yelled, incredulous.

"We don't need help!" Olivia yelled back over her shoulder.

"Not my diagnosis," quipped Huang.

The copycat wasn't giving up. "What gives you the right? What's so different between you and me?"

Getting into the Tumbler, Olivia beside him in the weapon's officer's seat, Bruce hit the close hatch button. "We're not wearing hockey pads."

**A/N: And TDK begins. Yay!**

**Who honestly expected me to bring in Penguin? Don't worry though, it'll still be Joker-centric, but ol' Cobblepot will be playing a key role in the Joker's scheme (think of him as another faction adding to: Bruce/Liv, Dent, Elliot, and the Mob). Trust me, I promise it'll be awesome, and to quote the man we all hate to love: "I'm a man of my word." [Insert Joker laugh]**

**I'm sorry I couldn't change the Bank Scene much, but it was so well done in the movies that I couldn't disrupt it. I hope I captured the depth of the Joker's madness. Who wants to see how Bruce, Liv, and El deal with him?**

**Read; Review; Share; and Enjoy! Waugh, Waugh, Waugh! **


	2. Chapter 2: Unresolved Issues

**Reposted A/N: I got some questions, so this is set in Season 6 of SVU**

**A/N: "Good evening Ladies and Gentlemen. This is tonight's entertainment." **

**As in the movie, after the explosive opening scenes, we get into a lull in the fighting. Perfect time to elaborate on the emotional aspects of the story. Here, we'll see if Liv has moved on, is still in denial, or has admitted to herself what we all know.**

**Since you've all been good readers, I'll include Penguin again. He's just too fun to write and trust me; I know where I'm going with him, Waugh, Waugh, Waugh.**

**Disclaimer: If Batman isn't helping the 1-6 close down the sex traffickers, then I own neither story.**

**Enjoy, share, and review.**

Chapter 2: Unresolved Issues

Though it was almost five in the morning, the first tendrils of sunlight just poking over the ocean, the press was out in force, camped out in front of the bank. Luckily for Elliot, Fin had deployed uniforms to keep a wide path open for him to advance up the steps. He and the press hadn't had the best relationship over the two years he led MCU. During the failed murder trial of noted gangster and member of the Gang of Seven (the popular name for Gotham's criminal organizations) Darius Parker, a reporter had filed a lawsuit against him for assault. It had been quashed, but easy it was not.

Dani Beck by his side, Elliot made his way through the large doorways. "Cap, Dani," said a figure in a cheap windbreaker and scruffily black hair pulled up in a ponytail. "Welcome to the scene of the boldest crime ever pulled."

"Really Fin?" asked Dani to her partner. "How do you figure?"

Fin Tutuola smirked. "I figure that because this is one of the many banks used by the Gang of Seven." Elliot couldn't help but smile at Dani's dropped jaw. Fin had been one of him and Liv's first picks for MCU; even though this was his first assignment as a detective, he was a natural, especially for undercover ops. "Operated by one Kenneth Cleary, President."

"I know him," growled Elliot in disgust. "Back when we were at SVU, me and Liv almost had him on three counts of rape one, only for the judge to declare a mistrial. Fitting for Maroni and Penguin to keep some of Falcone's old gang on the payroll."

"What crazy bastard would try to rob a mob bank?" asked Dani, thoroughly shocked that any criminal would have the balls to take on the Gang of Seven. Despite their waning influence, anyone in the underworld who pissed them off was as good as dead.

"Only one comes to mind," said Elliot, rubbing his hair. "Did you find it?"

Handing over an evidence bag, Fin nodded. "Yep, one joker playing card." Elliot sighed; this guy had started as a plain armed robber knocking off pawn shops and liquor stores two years before. Now, he was escalating to armored cars, shipping heists, and now mob banks. Where was this asshole going next?

Looking up, Elliot noticed ME Melinda Warner inspecting five bodies on the granite floors. "What happened to them?"

"Killed each other off," Fin replied. "From what we know about the Joker, he doesn't follow the code among thieves."

"Yep; might as well see the vault. This could interfere with ongoing operations."

The three walked over to the vault, stepping around police tape marking off the bloodstained pools where the Joker killed his accomplices. "Oh, by the way Cap," mentioned Fin, reaching into his jacket. "Morales gave us some printouts from the security feed. Unlike the last few times, we got some good head shots." He handed Elliot the photos, who handed each to Dani when he was done.

"What's he hiding under that makeup?" Elliot asked no one in particular while studying the last image, a perfect one of the Joker grinning right at the camera. It was if he was taunting the police with that Glasgow Smile of his. It made Elliot's blood boil as he entered the vault, picked bare of its once abundant stacks of bills. His fists balled as he tried to control his anger (he wasn't known as Unstabler for nothing). Preventing himself from doing something he'd regret, Elliot punched a file cabinet, leaving a huge dent in the metal and soreness in his knuckles.

"You should really control that temper Captain," said a stern female voice from behind them. Elliot turned to see the Batman and Batgirl, arriving unseen and unheard as was the routine. He turned and looked at Fin and Dani.

Understanding the look (and being briefed on the unofficial Batman/Batgirl policy from Fin and Briscoe when she got in), Dani clapped her hands. "Ok, can we get a minute people?" She, Fin, and the other cops left the vault.

"Actually I was," said Elliot when it was just the three of them. He picked up the last photo and showed the two.

"Him again?" growled Bruce.

"I'm afraid so," grumbled Elliot, feeling his anger rapidly dissipate (he pondered why quite a few times; before, the only ones who could calm him down were his kids and Liv). "He lays low for a while, then strikes hard and fast, getting bolder and more creative by the day. SOB is immaculate too, leaves no leads or loose ends, including his own people." Elliot gestured to the outside where Warner was zipping the henchmen's bodies in cadaver bags.

"Who were they this time?" asked Bruce, inspecting one of the loose bills.

"A bunch of small timers, all with rap sheets as long as my leg; none with any mob affiliations though."

Lifting one of the hundred-dollar bills in his hand, Bruce scanned it with a UV light. "These are the marked bills we sent you." It was an unspoken agreement between the two; Liv handled the detective work while Bruce was the tech guy. It had gotten them through some pretty sticky situations before, so neither of them challenged it.

"Our UCs have been making illicit buys with them for weeks now. Drugs, guns, trafficked women, trafficked children, trafficked animals regarding Bushido; you name it, we've bought it."

"You're trying to track the banks that have been laundering their money," stated Olivia matter-of-factly (she was a detective). "How many are there?"

"Five, excluding this one for obvious reasons."

Nodding her head slowly, Olivia said, "Time to move in."

Elliot nodded back, "I agree, but we'd have to hit all banks simultaneously. That's going to take all the manpower MCU has. What about other cases, namely this Joker motherfucker?"

"One man or the entire mob? He can wait," observed Bruce dryly.

"True, but I'll have to inform the new DA to get warrants, and he'll want to get involved."

"Do you trust him?" asked Liv. She had heard a lot of good things about Harvey Dent, not just from the media, and had even met him once. He seemed genuine, but anything was possible.

Smiling with frustration (a habit of his), Elliot shook his head slowly. "I haven't even met the guy yet, so I don't know. From what I hear though, he's as stubborn as you…" He turned and saw that there was no one there. "That's happened to me over two dozen times and it still bugs the hell out of me," he rambled, running his hand through his short hair. "And now I'm talking to myself. God, I need a break from all this shit." Life however, wasn't fair like that.

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Putting a small flower in a tall, half-full glass, Alfred neatly picked up the steaming hot breakfast tray and strode out of the kitchen in the erect posture he was famous for. While he had great nostalgia for the gothic look of Wayne Manor, he had to admit that the modern Wayne Family penthouse overlooking 5th Street (the best and most expensive part of the city) was easier to clean and look after.

Striding into Bruce's bedroom, he stopped and scoffed at the scene before him. No matter how many mornings he came in to see the bed fully made as if no one slept there, it never ceased to bug the hell out of him. Shaking his head sadly, he moved back to the kitchen to pack a to-go box for the breakfast and prepare a second one. "Something tells me Miss Olivia didn't make it home last night either."

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The large house in the South Shore was of a simple Tuscan design, a tribute to Salvatore Maroni's dislike for the ostentatious. As he remembered from Carmine Falcone's playboy mansion style palace from when he was a simple Captain and Maroni was the Underboss, Penguin was grateful. All the ornateness of the Deviant Don, as Falcone was called, made him nauseous. Maroni had purged the shits and perverts from the organization, or rather Penguin did it for him.

When it had been discovered that Huang's poison hand damaged Falcone for life (good riddance in Penguin's mind), it had been an epic power struggle in and of itself to replace him as head of the family, which other than Connors' was the most powerful criminal organization in the whole of the United States. Opposing Maroni was the good ol' boy Falcone faction of pedophiles and rapists, friends and fellow deviants of the old Don. Maroni, at first with no chance, turned to the efficient but belittled Penguin, more out of desperation than anything else. He couldn't have made a better decision; through intricate, complex plans that involved numerous tactics such as "accidents," intimidation, and anonymous tips to the police regarding a boy-for-money bathhouse where a certain _Consigliore_ would be, within two months, Maroni was in charge and Penguin was rewarded with the position as Underboss.

Since then, he was the Gang of Seven's go to guy regarding serious problems. If a public official needed to be whacked or an insubordinate supplier needed a lesson in who was in charge, Penguin organized the whole affair. His 167, genius level IQ, extensive list of deep-cover moles within the GPD and DA's Office, and all-around good luck always allowed him to evade capture time and time again; it provided Maroni and the others with plausible deniability, something sorely needed in their line of work.

All of it made Penguin angry. Sure, Sal trusted and respected him for his abilities, but would he ever allow him to assume control of the family like he rightfully deserved? Not a chance in hell as far as Penguin was concerned. As for the other members of the Gang of Seven, their opinions went from annoyance (Aleksayev) to downright loathing (Darius Parker). Here he was, the man who kept their businesses in the black despite the actions of Batman/Batgirl, Stabler, and now Harvey Dent, and he was still treated like some freak. It both infuriated and frustrated him at the same time.

As he exited the Towncar, umbrella nestled in his armpit and top hat securely on his head as he waddled along the elegant granite tiles of the foyer, Penguin knew that this was as far as he could get in his chosen field. Ever since childhood, the ever present taunts of his appearance and voice had given him the hate and determination to climb up, and even excel, in the criminal underworld. However, it would always be the reason that no one in the present structure would accept him in control. He had the respect of the lower ranks, but not he leadership. One day, if the opportunity presented itself, he'd show the smug assholes that one didn't underestimate Oswald C. Cobblepot and live to tell the tail, but right now, he'd bide his time.

Vito Barzini, the new _Consigliore_ for the family, greeted Penguin warmly and motioned to the private study where Maroni was getting ready for today's trial. The door closing behind him, Penguin removed his top hat and set it on the coat rack behind him. "Good morning Oz," said Sal Maroni, sitting at his desk, going over today's issue of the _Ledger_. He was a good-looking middle aged man, closer to sixty than fifty, with a thick mop of greying hair; just your typical gentleman mobster.

"Morning Sal," squawked Penguin, to which Maroni chuckled (as far as he'd go to acknowledge Penguin's eccentricities). "How's Delia? I haven't seen her in a while." He hated small talk, but he had to keep up appearances.

"She's busy at the farm, as she always is when worried. I told her you were handling everything but… you get the picture."

"Yes I do. So why was I summoned here?"

Smiling, Maroni offered him a plate of scones, which he graciously accepted. "Well, my trial is today, and I wanted to know if that pressing issue has been taken care of." In his zealous pursuit of justice, District Attorney Dent had found some witnesses and a little forensic evidence to try Maroni for two counts of racketeering and assault, but only if it could be proven that he was in fact the head of the Falcone Crime Family, a formality that Penguin could exploit.

"Yes, the issue is taken care of. Let's say the prospect of ten years in County doesn't make up for the two million cash he'll receive upon release, Waugh, Waugh, Waugh."

Maroni grinned but didn't inquire further. Instead, he lifted up the copy of the _Ledger_, exposing the story regarding Huang's capture. "Was this where you were last night?"

"Yes, what of it?"

"Nothing Oz, it just says that only Huang's men, Aleksayev's boys, and a few copycats were found. Care to explain?"

"We were attacked by the Batman and Batgirl fans. After exchanging fire for a few minutes, I ordered the men to pull back. I have no idea what possessed the others to stay as long as they did, but I got our men out, Waugh, Waugh, Waugh."

"This is why I keep you around Oz. You take care of the shit that others would just fuck up completely." Even though he probably meant nothing by it, Penguin still wanted to rip his throat open; he was sick of being either the freak or the guy who cleaned up other people's messes. One day, he'd own this town, and all would pay.

For now though, he simply smiled. "Thank you Sal."

"That gets me to my next point. Today, one of our banks was robbed."

"That's odd. Doesn't everyone know what I'd do in that case?"

"There are a lot of nuts and crazies out there Oz. That's why I'm counting on you to find out who did this."

"You want me to find him or find and 'take care' of him?" asked Penguin, who was a stickler for these things. It helped his scheming and closet loathing stay off the radar.

"No, I just want to know who he is. If it's more than just some nut, then we'll see." He drained a glass of orange juice and stood. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with the District Attorney."

"I wouldn't want to keep you from that sir, Waugh, Waugh, Waugh."

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Unremarkable was the best word to describe the old Wayne Enterprises dockyard on the southern bank of the Gotham River. Once vibrant with activity, the site was left to rot not long after Thomas Wayne's death when to company relocated its shipping activity to the North Shore. Now, the cracked concrete was strewn with rusted metal, crushed bottles, and rotting seafood brought over by the flock of seagulls that made the lot their permanent residence.

Such was a strange place for Alfred Pennyworth to be seen, especially dressed in his customary suit and dinner jacket. Stepping out of the Rolls Royce towncar, he made his way carefully over the bits of metal and glass to an old shipping container with a large padlock/chain on the door. Alfred took a key out of his pocket and slid it in the padlock, twisting it open. It would all seem very ordinary to the casual onlooker, as long as they didn't know that the key and lock weren't designed by Lucius Fox. 'I might dislike Master Wayne's and Miss Olivia's choice of lairs, but not their skill in preparing them. If only they could put their collective genius into building their lives…' He sighed to himself, knowing that he wasn't the one who could do that for them.

Clutching a bag filled with a boxed-up breakfast for two and a copy of the _Gotham City Ledger_ under his arm, Alfred casually walked into the container, the light from the outside air illuminating the dark interior. Pulling out the key again, he slid it in the locked box in the center, opening it up to reveal a punch card and fingerprint scanner. After doing his due diligence, the floor started to descend underneath the ground, heading for the temporary home of the Batman and Batgirl.

The lair was relatively simple, a large rectangular room with a bright, white floor and a ceiling inlayed with fluorescent lights. Parked in the middle, about three yards from the workbenches was the Tumbler in its fearsome glory. Ahead another five yards was the planning center, three counters topped to the brim with display and computing equipment. Sitting there was a lone male figure, a female figure leaning above him.

"It will be nice when Wayne Manor is rebuilt. Then you can go from not sleeping in a penthouse, to not sleeping in a mansion. It'll be easier for Miss Olivia to sneak in as well."

"Thank God you're here Alfred," said Bruce, turning his head back slowly. "Come save me from this butcher."

"Shut up Bruce," deadpanned Olivia, concentrating on stitching the gash on his arm. "I'm not that bad. I've sewn up Elliot numerous times. It's nothing I can't handle."

"I'm surprised Stabler kept you as a partner for so long… oww!"

"Whoops," smirked Olivia.

Alfred, setting the breakfast on the table, chuckled. "Let me handle this Miss Olivia. We all know how he gets when he's cranky."

"I resent that!" exclaimed Bruce which made Olivia, who was in the process of devouring her breakfast, chuckle. He was so adorable when he was annoyed. "And I could do it myself Alfred."

"Come now Master Wayne; whenever you stich yourself up you make a bloody mess of things."

"He's right Bruce," said Olivia in-between mouthfuls of scrambled eggs.

"I've learned from my mistakes Alfred."

"Then you should be pretty knowledgeable by then. You too Miss Olivia." She feigned a hurt look.

Alfred bent down after putting on his reading glasses for a better look. Taking out a new needle and thread from the first-aid kit on the table, he began to sew up the large gash. "So how was last night's excursion?"

"It went well," Bruce answered. "We got Huang and a lot of Russians. My armor though, it's getting to be too bulky for the kind of agility we need. It carries too much weight; me and Liv will need something lighter, more maneuverable."

"Well I'm sure Mr. Fox can oblige you two on that matter." He sunk the needle in his ward's flesh once more, causing Bruce to wince slightly (Olivia did too, reading the pain on his face). "So what happened here? Did you get mauled by a tiger?"

"No, Bushido wasn't there last night. It was a dog."

"A Dog?"

"It was a big dog," added Bruce, trying to defend his male pride.

"Don't lie Bruce," quipped Olivia, walking toward him. "Those dogs were cute little things." Her mushy tone made Bruce scowl.

"They were Aleksayev's Rottweilers, not mini-terriers Liv. I think I could have handled those without getting ripped apart."

"I'm sure you could big boy," she said in a false seductive voice.

Bruce couldn't help the small smile that formed across his face (or the shiver her voice induced in him). No matter what situation or mood he was in, Olivia had a knack for making him feel just a little bit better about things, weather it was the pressures of being Batman, the pressures of leading a double life, or the pressures of waiting for Alex (which had taken an even worse toll on him than the others). He didn't understand it, but no one else, not even Alex, had that effect on him except Liv. She was his rock, and kept him from becoming the lonely, broken wreck that he knew he should have been (that he still might be).

A thought crossed his mind that turned the smile into a frown. "There were more copycats Alfred; six of them, with guns this time."

"Well maybe you two should hire them and take the weekend off."

He couldn't help but laugh awkwardly at that. "That's not what I meant when I said that me and Liv wanted to inspire people to do the right thing."

"I don't know Bruce; it would be nice to use my vacation days for an actual vacation rather than beating up scum with you."

"Oh please, you enjoy your quality time with me, admit it."

"I guess…" she said, trailing off, which Bruce took as an admission that his statement was valid. 'Oh, of only you knew how right you are,' she thought to herself, sadness taking over her thoughts. She was good at covering up her thoughts and feelings, so no one but her knew the mental anguish and torment she was going through. Ever since the day after Ra's al Ghul attempted to destroy Gotham, Olivia had attempted to deny her feelings, to pretend they didn't exist. There had been quite a few lonely, alcohol filled nights alone, quite a few bad dates which ended with her crying while the man left her apartment embarrassed and angry at her inability to enjoy it. For nearly two years, the denial had eaten at Olivia Benson's soul.

It changed about four months ago, when that crazed botanist tried to assassinate the Chairman of the City Council for allowing several community gardens to be turned into high-rise condos. After seeing Bruce nearly die after she stabbed him in the gut, Olivia finally admitted to herself what she had kept at bay for so long: she was in love with Bruce Wayne, hopelessly so.

After admitting it to herself after two years of not even allowing that to happen, it had felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders, only to be replaced by another. She was in love with her best friend, her partner in crime (literally), who was at the same time in love with her cousin. No matter how she felt deep down, Olivia knew why she had denied her feelings for so long. It would never work; Bruce saw her as a friend, a close friend, but a friend nonetheless. Besides, she could tell how madly in love he was with Alex; it broke her heart to see him in his moody and depressed states because of her. Except for maybe Alfred, she was the only person who truly knew how vulnerable the seemingly indefatigable Bruce Wayne really was; no matter how much it hurt her, Olivia vowed that she would not only try to move on, but also stay by Bruce's side forever, even if it was only as a friend. She loved him and her cousin too much to do otherwise.

"Liv; Liv; LIV!"

Olivia was shocked out of her thoughts. "Huh?"

"You seemed to be lost inside your mind Miss Olivia," stated Alfred matter-of-factly.

"Yeh, sorry about that. What was the topic again Uncle Alfred?"

"I was just telling Master Bruce about how things have improved in recent months thanks to the new District Attorney, Harvey Dent."

Since the stitching was apparently finished, Bruce raised his arms and switched the feed on the screen from a shot of the bank to file footage of the 2006 District Attorney's Race. There, flagged by posters labeled, "I Believe in Harvey Dent" was the man himself. "I am following him closely. I need to know if he can be trusted."

"Are you sure you're interested in his professional conduct, or his social circle." The footage cut to a shot of the newly elected DA walking with his EADA, Alex Cabot. Olivia wished Alfred wouldn't upset Bruce like this, but it was a fair question.

Sighing, Bruce knew that there could be nothing between him and Alex the way things were currently. He was willing to wait for her, even though it might kill him. "What Alex does in her own time is her business. I have no right to interfere." He knew that one day, when someone could officially take up Batman and Batgirl's mantle, then he could be with Alex and be the man that he once was. Until that time, it was impossible. "Anyway, Liv, you have girl talks with Alex right?"

Olivia furrowed her brows. "Define girl talk."

"You know, painting nails, stuff you read in Cosmo, the hot new boys that just came to town." He couldn't help but grin.

Stifling her own smirk, Olivia mimed throwing her plate at him. "Not funny Bruce, but yes, we did talk extensively about Mr. Dent."

"Anything I should know about?"

"I will not under any circumstances give you personal information Wayne," she mock growled, pointing a bronzed finger at him; the confidentiality between girlfriends was more sacred than Attorney/Client Confidentiality. "However, from what she says, Mr. Dent is the real deal, though I've only seen him in casual settings." Her phone buzzed, which put a hold on the conversation. "Benson. Yes El. Ok, I'll be there ASAP. Bye."

"Stabler?"

"Yes, that was my other partner. I have to go; someone's got to hunt the Batman and Batgirl. After all, I am the primary on that particular case." She winked at Bruce and left for the elevator.

Bruce watched her until she was out of sight. "That woman is something isn't she?" he remarked, removing his tight-fitting T-shirt.

"I wouldn't doubt it Master Bruce," Alfred replies, shooting worried glances at the multitude of bruises on Bruce's back. "Know your limits Master Wayne."

"Batman, and Batgirl for that matter, have no limits Alfred."

"But Bruce Wayne and Olivia Benson do sir. What's going to happen on the day, God forbid, one of you finds out?"

A sudden fear shot through Bruce's system over what might happen if Liv was hurt, but he shook the feeling. "Firstly, I won't let Liv get hurt. I'll die before it happens. Second, if my limit is reached, I know how much you want to say I told you so."

"With due respect Master Wayne, if that day happens for either of you, even I don't want to." Bruce smiled back at Alfred and headed for the exit. "Oh by the way." Bruce turned to face his butler. "How did you get all that footage of Miss Cabot?"

"I have my ways, "he replied with a knowing look.

Alfred scoffed. "I hope you're not having me followed on my days off."

"Well Alfred, if you ever take a day off I might, but I won't. Tailing you is Liv's job." He smirked and walked toward the elevator.

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better," muttered Alfred under his breath.

**A/N: Sorry the chapter is shorter than the rest, but I have it all planned regarding what goes where. **

**When it comes to Penguin, think of him as a genius with a massive Napoleonic Complex.**

**So now we know what Liv truly feels. At least she's admitted it to herself, but that's as far as it'll go. Just don't kill me when you see what she does. It's all planned out, and as a wise man once said, "People don't panic when things go according to plan, even if the plan is HORRIFYING."**

**Next up, we finally meet Harvey Dent, Alex, and the entire MCU family.**

**Please Review and enjoy.**


	3. Chapter 3: White Knight

**A/N: Well hello everyone. Come on. I really would like some reviews. Pretty Please!**

**So here, we meet the incorruptible Harvey Dent, plus we get some information that will want you to form an angry mob and try to kill me. Please don't.**

**Oh, by the way, for Olivia, Elliot and the rest of the SVU characters, think of it as Season 6.**

**Disclaimer: Are Benson and Stabler on a train to Gotham to try and extradite a recalcitrant Sal Maroni? If not, then I own neither story (much as I would want to).**

**Please share and review! Please! **

Chapter 3: White Knight

"Mr. Mayor," droned Nick Ganzler of Gotham Central News, the premier news channel for the greater Gotham Area, "You were elected on a platform to clean up the decay, filth, and corruption that has for so long affected this city. Forgive me for being so blunt but, when are you going to start?"

Mayor Matthew Garcia ran a hand through his gelled, jet black hair. He had rode the anti-status quo wave two years ago to defeat the Democratic incumbent on a platform of anti-corruption, but the crime rates were still stubbornly high. "I believe I already have Nick. Crime rates are still high, but so are arrest and conviction rates; they're the highest they've ever been since 1971."

"A lot of that could be attributed to the so called Batman and Batgirl. Many are considering them heroes for taking on the criminals of the city. What is your opinion on the matter?"

Garcia looked him in the eye, doing his best to keep a calm, relaxed face. Unlike Harvey Dent, he was a traditional inner-city politician; the coalition of political parties had chosen him only because of his campaign skills, due to urban Gotham's natural antipathy for reformers. "To paraphrase Police Commissioner Munch, the Batman and Batgirl are menaces. One cannot take the law into their own hands, it just breeds anarchy."

"But there are rumors that the police are working with them on certain cases."

"On the contrary Nick, I'm told that the men and woman of the Major Crimes Unit are closing in on the two vigilantes."

Smirking, Detective Chester Lake turned to his partner, "You here that Pete? Mayor says were closing in on the Caped Crusaders."

"The investigation," droned Pete Breslin, reaching lazily to the mug of coffee on the far side of his desk, "Is ongoing." Lake laughed, knowing the classic cop speak for a liquid nitrogen cold case. A civilian could pick a random name out of the phonebook and it would have been more likely to be the Batman or Batgirl than what MCU dug up.

"Morning everyone," said the unusually chipper Dani Beck, strolling into the bullpen with Fin Tutuola. Lake was confused as to why she was beaming (she had been at a Joker crime scene, which was enough to wipe the smile off anyone's face), until he spotted the Dunkin' Donuts coffee and bags, in her and Fin's hand. "Brought over some goodies for everyone to celebrate the capture of Scarecrow."

"Mhmm," said Lake, smacking his lips. "Marry me," he joked.

"In your dreams bucko. So what crawled up Breslin's ass and died?" Breslin groaned while Fin and Lake snickered.

"Probably the same thing that's always been there," remarked Detective Dana Lewis in a characteristic Southern drawl, grabbing he customary two Splenda latté. As Breslin tried to shoot her a "Badass Benson" glare (and failing), she backtracked, "Or it could have something to do with the Mayor's boasting."

"Huh?" asked Fin.

"Garcia is telling Ganzler on GCN that we're close on capturing the Batman and Batgirl. A ridiculous notion I know, but what can you do?"

"Turn that shit off," moaned Fin, taking a seat. "We don't need to listen to a bunch of politicians telling us how to do our jobs."

"Oh come one Fin," faux pleaded Sgt. Lenny Briscoe, walking in with his partner Lucius Blaine. "It's nice to hear the high mucky-mucks praise our immeasurable skills." Laughing, he turned the flatscreen off anyway, getting a thanks from Fin. "So Dana; still haven't found a partner yet?"

The detective shrugged. "Nope. The Cap promised one would be here by last week, but you know the drill." The other members of the MCU family all nodded. "Mmmm, thanks for the coffee Dani. It sure beats the swill Blaine makes."

"Excuse me? My fine, French roasted coffee is certainly not swill."

"Oh yes it is," said an authoritative voice from behind the group. "It may not be as bad as Commissioner Munch's, but it wouldn't win any awards."

"Hey Lt." chorused the group as Olivia walked in the bullpen, smiling softly and reaching for a black coffee with cream.

"So I see everyone's here…" she glanced around, "Except Goren and Eames. Where are those two?" Aside from Fin, Briscoe, and Breslin, Bobby Goren and Alex Eames were the two longest serving detectives in MCU.

"They're busy interrogating Huang. We picked him up this morning; Batman and Batgirl." That said it all. Olivia smiled a Cheshire cat-like grin (even though she had been there already).

"That should make the Captain happy. Where's El?"

"He's in his office Baby Girl," said Fin, using his nickname for her. "He's in one of those moods again."

"Nothing I can't handle," she smirked confidently.

"How did you deal with him for the last seven years?" asked Dana, genuinely curious.

"Practice." She laughed at the confused expressions on her unit's faces before ducking into the Captain's office. "Hey El," she said cheerily. Elliot didn't even move his head from the papers he was glaring at. 'Oh no, one of those contemplative moods again.' Whenever Elliot glared intently at something while his left hand massaged the skin of his forehead, he'd yell and snap at anything and anyone who tried to talk to him. However, Olivia wasn't anyone or anything. "El!" she hollered.

"Son of a bitch!" Elliot jumped up in the air, his head moving from side to side to assess where the sound was from. When his eyes settled on a grinning Olivia, he sighed. "That wasn't funny Liv."

"I disagree."

"You better wipe that grin off your face Lt."

Olivia mimed hurt. "There goes our kidney deal. Good luck finding another one."

The small smile that spread over Elliot's lips was unavoidable. It may have been annoying as hell, but Olivia's banter and practical jokes were cathartic. "Sorry about that Liv. It's just this case…" He started to seethe silently at the mere mention of it. "Damn that motherfucker!"

"What happened El?" Olivia asked, though knowing exactly what case he was talking about, though El was never to know.

"Joker," he spat.

"Not that psycho again." Olivia rolled her eyes; she was a sick of him as Elliot was, and know she could act like herself instead of the professional superhero Batgirl. "Give yourself a break El."

"I can't, don't you understand! This bastard always leaves a clue as to where he'll strike next; they're not as complex as Merritt Rook's, but they do strain the imagination." Olivia sighed, knowing he was right. It had taken all the energy she could muster (both as Badass Benson and as Batgirl) to defeat The Riddler, and even then it was a close call. "I just have to find out what the clue is; maybe something to do with the Mob since he robbed one of their banks?"

"El," Olivia said softly, knowing he needed a breather or he'd go insane, "You aren't going to figure him out quicker if you rack your brain till you explode."

Sighing, Elliot sat down, motioning for Olivia to do the same. "Much as I don't want to make you cocky Liv, you are very perceptive."

"Of course I am," she said proudly. "And I have a right to be cocky; I'm the only Lt. in the GPD who can deal with Captain Elliot Stabler." They both laughed at that. Taking a sip of her coffee, she remarked, "Oh, I heard from Alex regarding Maroni's trial. She says that with today's witness, we can finally put that bastard behind bars for good."

"Don't get your hopes up Liv. Dent went in half-cocked on that charge and I think it'll blow up in his face, much as I would wish otherwise."

"Sadly, you're right. Between Penguin and his wife's connections, Sal is virtually untouchable." She kicked herself for not getting that waddling bastard last night.

"Until tomorrow," grinned Elliot, referring to their sting operation with the unmarked bills Batman and Batgirl gave them (Olivia found it ironic that she gave herself the tools of the trade).

Olivia grinned back. "Until tomorrow." Their little toasting was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Come in," said Olivia, who as Lieutenant had the right.

In walked a poised, young rookie, with stiff brown hair and a soup-strainer mustache. "Excuse me? I'm looking for Captain Stabler and Lieutenant Benson."

"You found us," replied Elliot. "Who are you again?"

The rookie reached out his hand to them. "I'm James Gordon; Sgt. Tucker sent me here. I'm you're new detective." He shook each of their hands firmly. 'I'm impressed already,' thought Olivia.

From the look on his face, Elliot was as well. "Nice to meet you Detective Gordon; welcome aboard. We're a family here at MCU so go and get acquainted with everyone."

"Yes sir," he smiled, heading out of the office.

"Looks like Dana has a new partner," smirked Elliot. "She won't want a rookie, but that's not up to her is it?" The two both shared a laugh.

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Drumming her fingers on the prosecution table, Alex Cabot glanced at her watch for the fiftieth time today. '11:28; where is he?' She adjusted her reading glasses on the bridge of her nose, flipping through the papers on the desk, figuring she'd have to handle the trial herself if the judge got there before he did.

Behind her, the doors swung wide open, District Attorney Harvey Dent strolling in with an exasperated smile plastered on his face. "Sorry I'm late honey," he said to Alex, kissing her on the cheek. They had been dating for the past year, back when he was the EADA for IAB, and it was getting serious. He smirked at her concentrated expression. "Worried that you'd have to start without me?"

Alex scowled at him. "Harvey, I know these briefs backwards or forwards. I'm not some twenty-year-old paralegal you can boss around; I know what I'm doing! I fact, I think I'll take this one."

Laughing, Harvey reached into his pocket. "I like the take charge Alex Cabot of the courtroom. It's pretty sexy." Alex rolled her eyes, her frustration dissipating. Between the tanned skin, surfer blonde hair, and awe-shucks grin (which all belied the goodness and decency he possessed), she could not stay mad at Harvey. There was just something about Gotham's White Knight that allowed him to worm his way into one's heart. "I have an idea, since fair's fair." He held up a coin. "Heads it's mine; tails, it's all yours."

"Oh yeh, you want to flip a coin to see who leads?" replied Alex, now grinning as well.

"Hey, it got me my first date with you didn't it? Best moment in my life so far."

Blushing, Alex felt happy before the memory of that day came rushing back. Every time she and Harvey were ready to take the next step, what she had said to Bruce popped up in her mind and she was forced to put the brakes on her current relationship. 'Bruce or Harvey?' She wanted to be with Bruce, she loved him after all, but Alex couldn't help but think he would never stop being the Batman, that it was too engrained in his soul to quit. That meant Olivia wouldn't quit either, and she couldn't lose the two people she had loved since childhood. God, it was nerve-racking.

"Honey?" Alex came out of her reverie to look at the charming, decent man beside her. "Ready?"

"Harvey, you can't make important decisions on chance alone."

He grinned, flipping the coin; not surprisingly, it came up heads. "I don't; I make my own luck."

The door from the judge's chambers opened up. "All rise," bellowed the bailiff, "The honorable Judge Barry Mourdock presiding."

The entire courtroom, press, prosecution and defense stood as Mourdock, an old law school mentor of Alex's, headed to his perch. A smug smile on his face, Sal Maroni turned to the prosecution table. "I though the DA's main job was to play golf with the Mayor and stuff like that."

Harvey flashed him his signature grin, "Tee-off's one thirty, and that gives me plenty of time to put you away for life Sal."

Sitting, Maroni turned to his wife sitting behind him. "Don't worry Delia; I'll be out by lunch." He squeezed her hand, exuding confidence.

"Don't be so sure of that ma'am. We've got your husband dead to rights," replied Alex, blue eyes glaring at the mobster from above her glasses.

"We'll see about that Miss Cabot," replied Delia Wilson-Maroni, shooting Alex an icy glare.

Harvey, chuckling, leaned in to Alex's ear. "Be sure not to get into a catfight while I'm gone honey," he whispered, kissing her cheek once more before he rose. "Your honor, the prosecution would like to call Alberto Brasi to the stand."

Ten very intense minutes later, Harvey was on a roll. Alex couldn't help but watch with desire in her eyes; the boyish charm and awe-shucks grin hid the fire and determination of a crusader for justice. The firm jaw, iron voice, and blazing hazel eyes working as one all made up the man they called Gotham's White Knight, and he was going for the jugular.

"So, with Carmine Falcone in Arkham on permanent psychiatric hold there was a war over who would take over the Falcone Crime Family is that correct Mr. Brasi."

"That's right, though I'd call it a gentleman's disagreement." Alberto Brasi was a high level _Caporegime_, or Capo, in the Falcone Crime Family. In order to avoid jail time for a brutal assault on an ADA, he agreed to testify here today.

"So, since there isn't dead _Mafioso_ floating in the North River, I presume the war ended and someone stepped up to run this so-called family Mr. Brasi."

"Sounds like a valid point counselor, though I haven't personally witnessed any of these alleged waste disposal missions in the North River."

Harvey paused for the moment, unsure as to why Brasi was being so snarky; in the trial prep sessions, he had directed his chief witness to remain professional. Something was up, but Dent wasn't worried. He had Maroni by the balls and he knew it.

"And is the man in charge in this courtroom today?"

"You win counselor." Harvey grinned at Maroni, who continued to look smug. "It was me!"

The grin vanished as the crowd gasped. A scowl on his face, Harvey stormed over to the prosecution desk, where Alex handed him a typed transcript. "I have a sworn statement from you," he growled, holding the sheet of paper out in front of him, "That Salvatore Maroni and Oswald C. Cobblepot are in control of the Falcone Crime Family."

"Objection your honor!" yelled Trevor Langan, Maroni's defense attorney. "Mr. Cobblepot is not a defendant in these proceedings; it's all cause for speculation."

"Let me rephrase judge," Harvey backtracked. "This is a sworn statement you made to the Grand Jury where you said that this man, Salvatore Maroni, was the new head of Falcone's criminal empire."

"Maroni, he's a fall guy. I'm the brains of the organization!" Brasi said to laughs in the gallery.

"Permission to treat the witness as hostile," Harvey grunted, getting a nod from Mourdock.

"Hostile, I'll show you hostile!" Brasi pulled out a pistol from his jacket, leveling it at Harvey, causing Alex to gasp and several screams to erupt from the gallery.

Angry rather than scared, Harvey forcefully pushed the gun to the side and smashed his fist into Brasi's nose, causing him to pitch back moaning and snarling. Harvey bent down and picked up the gun, disassembling it as he walked toward Maroni. "Makarov semi-automatic, frame-fixed-barrel, 9mm, made in the former Soviet Union; next time you want to assassinate a public servant Mr. Maroni, I recommend you buy American." Several members of the gallery hooted at his expression of patriotism.

"Get this trash out of here!" yelled Mourdock, who didn't tolerate anything funny in his courtroom, let alone attempted murder.

"But your honor, I'm not done!" said Harvey in his awe-shucks tone, causing the courtroom to laugh, while Alex merely rolled her eyes.

An hour later, with the court recessed for the day after Judge Mourdock decided to entertain Langan's motion to dismiss (which was likely to be grated due to the prosecution's witness implosion), Harvey and Alex were walking down the hallway of the courthouse, talking shop. "Penguin is methodical, so there's no way we'll be able to tie the gun to him, Sal, or Delia. But the fact that they want you dead means we're getting to them!" she exclaimed happily.

"Yeh, I'm glad to see you so happy," Harvey replied, hands in his pockets and looking down at the ground. "I'm fine by the way."

Alex chuckled at her boyfriend's fake upset tone; she'd fallen victim to it too many times. "Come on Harvey, you're Gotham's DA. If you aren't getting shot at, you're not doing your job right. Besides, seeing you take that guy out is quite the turn on." Harvey, as if by magic, smirked and placed his hand on the small of her back. Biting her bottom lip, a mischievous glint in her blue eyes, Alex ran a hand down his arm. "You know, you could always claim you were rattled, and then we could spend the rest of the day together with some take-out. What do you say?"

"Though that sounds lovely Alex, you have that luncheon date with Olivia."

"Damn you Liv," Alex muttered, looking put out.

Harvey chuckled, pulling her close. "She's your only cousin Alex, and how bad could meeting her be?"

'You have no clue,' she thought back.

"Besides, I need to drag the head of MCU down here right away."

That perked Alex's ears up. "Elliot Stabler? He's a mutual friend of Liv and I's. Be gentle, she cautioned.

"I'm always gentle." Giving him a knowing smirk, Alex kissed him on the lips chastely and walked away laughing.

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Two hours later, Elliot walked into the Office of the District Attorney of Gotham County (which covered the city and then some). "I'm here to see Harvey Dent," he said to the secretary, smiling. She nodded and motioned to the door. Elliot walked to the door and knocked twice.

"It's open," called a voice inside. Elliot opened the door to reveal Harvey Dent, sitting at the giant oaken desk, a panoramic view of Downtown Gotham visible through the windows. "Hello Captain Stabler," he said, rising and extending his hand. Elliot clasped it firmly and they both sat down. "Alex has told me a lot about you."

"Only good things I hope," chuckled Elliot.

"They mostly came from Olivia if that helps."

"Ok, well then I'm screwed!" They both shared a laugh, which eased the tension. Both were alpha males used to getting their own way around the workplace, and a buildup of testosterone would not be conducive to a good working relationship. "I hear you got a hell of a right cross."

That made Harvey preen, "Word travels fast huh?"

"That it does, shame Sal will probably walk though."

"Mourdock is a good man, but even he wouldn't sustain the indictment now. The Mob knows what it's doing."

"No, Penguin knows what he's doing. All major operations such as this go through him. It doesn't matter if it's Maroni, Delia, Bushido, the Russians, or any of the others, all go through ol' Cobblepot. He's their master strategist, though none of us can prove it."

"Well the good thing about the Mob Stabler is that they keep giving you second chances."

"Now, I'm sure you didn't call me over here to discuss the Mob's propensity for illegal activity," said Elliot amiably, trying not to sound hostile. He did feel the DA was going to try and encroach on his territory, but Elliot didn't want to burn any bridges.

Smiling back, Harvey took out a thick, manila package and opened it with a pocketknife, removing a billfold. "Lightly irradiated bills covered in radioactive Gallium-67, same as in medical scans; fancy stuff for an inner-city cop, even one as distinguished as yourself. Where are you getting the help?"

"Well, we have help from various federal agencies…"

"Save it Stabler; I know who's helping you, and I want to meet them."

Not breaking the impassive look on his face, Elliot responded. "Commissioner Munch made it official department policy to arrest the vigilantes known as Batman and Batgirl on sight."

Harvey wasn't buying it. "Uh-huh, and what about that twin-bat floodlight on the roof of MCU?"

"If you must know, that's just a little science project that my twins and I built that malfunctions every once in a while. Most of the time, I forget it's even up there." Elliot knew that Harvey wasn't stupid enough to buy that load of horseshit, but despite what Olivia told him about what Alex said, he still didn't trust Dent fully, and wanted to scope the newly elected DA a bit more first before letting him in.

Sighing, Harvey tossed the billfold on the desk. "Since I took office I've put every money launderer in Gotham behind bars but the Mob is still getting its ill-gotten gains out. I think you, Benson, and your friends have found the last game in town and are trying to hit them where it hurts, their wallets. It's bold and it's crazy, but that's my kind of operation, and I want in."

'How to let him down without destroying the bridge?' Elliot had on his hands a dilemma, but if anyone could dig out of one, it was him (four kids gave you quite a lot of experience in that department). "I want to trust you Harvey, but Ben Franklin said that three people can keep a secret only if two of them are dead. That's more than a fair statement for this town."

Taking a deep breath, Harvey tried his best to tone down his frustration. "Let's get things straight Stabler, I don't like that you have your own special unit. Furthermore, I don't think it's fair that you can pick your members outside the verification channels I developed back when I worked in IAB."

"If I waited for your IAB channels to clear all of the cops I picked it would be me and Olivia working alone. Look, I don't get political points being an idealist like you do, but I swear on my reputation that the men and women under my command are the best in the whole damn GPD, and I trust them with my life. Olivia, Sgt. Tucker, and I all agree that they're clean, and you can take that to the bank." The last sentence was delivered firmly, though it took all of Elliot's self-control not to go all "Unstabler" and smash his fist against the desk.

Contemplating what Elliot just said, Harvey simply nodded his head slowly. "Wow, so the rumors of MCU being a family are true huh?" At Elliot's wide smile at that, Harvey continued, seeing an opening now that his guest had calmed down (he had heard from Alex the way to deal with Elliot Stabler without it resorting to a shouting match). "So let me get this straight, you want me to back search warrants on five of Gotham's premier banks without telling me what you're after?"

Elliot debated what he could divulge while still keeping a level of distance. "I can give you the names of the banks."

Pursing his lips, Harvey decided that was as good as he was going to get. "Well that's a start. Alright Stabler, I'll get you your warrants, but I need your trust." He pointed a knowing finger at his guest.

"Oh you don't have to sell me Dent," said Elliot, relieved that the meeting ended without too many sparks flying. "I know from the press and what Olivia says about you that you're Gotham's White Knight."

Harvey smirked. "I heard they have a different name for me down at MCU."

Elliot shook his head softly, "I wouldn't know about that. Now I best go; my daughter's volleyball team is having a game in one hour. Wouldn't want to miss that."

His face lighting up at the mention of kids, Harvey couldn't help but think of when he and Alex could start a family together. They had only been together a year but he knew that she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The little black, velvet box in his desk drawer said it all.

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Andolini's was one of the premier Italian restaurants in Gotham City, but not so formal as to need a reservation one-month in advance, dressed in a tasteful blouse/jeans combo, Olivia fit right in with the other patrons. "How in God's name did Brasi get that gun passed courthouse security?" asked the indigent Alex Cabot, playing with her Stromboli from across the table.

Swallowing her forkful of fettuccine alfredo, Olivia took a sip of water before responding. "Penguin has his ways, and believe me, an operation this big has his grubby talons all over it." Try as they could, the inability of MCU to find anything on Maroni's Underboss made John "Teflon Don" Gotti look like an open-and-shut case; the son of a bitch was just too damn good.

"Well, thank God I had Harvey and his fists there to protect me," Alex bragged, slicing off a piece of her food and bringing it to her mouth.

Olivia gulped, for this was a difficult topic between her and her cousin. She knew about what Alex had told Bruce that day three years before, and every time they brought it up it led to either an awkward silence or a screaming match. Olivia loved her cousin to death, but she often thought that Bruce deserved someone who would always be there for him, even – no – especially considering the Batman. 'Someone like me – No, get it together Benson. Don't be selfish. If you love him, which you do, you'll concern yourself with his happiness first and only.' "So," she finally said, "Things with Dent are getting serious?"

Putting down her fork, Alex sighed and looked her cousin directly in the eye. "Liv, I know where you're going with this, and my answer is: I don't know."

"Alex, please listen to me. What you're doing, it's not fair to Bruce." Olivia kept her voice down, making sure only Alex could hear her. "I'm serious, he puts a front on for you, but inside he's hurting. He's withdrawn inside himself, and sometimes only Alfred and I can get through. If you truly love him, you need to either break it off with Dent or tell him to move on." 'I would wait for him till Armageddon,' she thought to herself.

"I care for Bruce, you know how much I do."

"Then why can't you just give him an answer. Think about Harvey too; he doesn't deserve to be strung along as well." Some part of her hated the District Attorney for preventing Bruce from getting the girl he loved, but another part could kiss him for allowing her the slight chance to be with him, even if it were only a slight one.

"I'm just so conflicted Liv. I love Bruce more than anything, but at the same time I can't allow myself to be with him as long as he wears the mask. It's the dichotomy Liv, the person he once was is warring with the person he is now. Until he can assure me that Batman is beyond him for good and he will no longer put you in harm's way either, I can't be with him; I know it's not fair to him, but I just can't."

'I would; I love both sides of him equally.' "If that's the case Alex, why don't you go with Harvey? No one can deny that you two have chemistry together."

"Harvey is a great guy, and in any other case I'd hold on to him and never let go, but I still love Bruce. I know I have to decide soon, but I just can't right now."

'Please, decide now! Spare me and Bruce the pain!' While she wanted to scream that at the top of her lungs, Olivia couldn't be that selfish. She loved her cousin, and if that meant placing her own feelings to the side, then she'd do it. "Hey," she took Alex's hand in hers, "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"No, no," Alex shook her head softly, "I needed that. You help me a lot Liv; that talk made things much clearer in my head. Thank you."

Olivia smiled back at her; sometimes she thought that she didn't deserve to be happy (a little gift she had from her mother), but as long as the people she loved were, then she didn't care.

"Now, on to you; did you find a date for tonight?" She had been suckered into a couple's night out with Alex and Harvey at the fanciest French restaurant in Gotham, and the only thing missing was a man to take with.

"I have actually," she replied, causing Alex's jaw to drop.

"No way! Badass Benson finally snags a man. Who is it, but more importantly is he cute?"

She smiled at her cousin's excitement. "Well, he's an FBI agent that I've worked with in the past. He asked me out last week, and I suggested we go with you guys. And to answer your question, he is quite handsome." 'Not as much as Bruce though.'

Alex slapped her cousin's knee, grinning widely. "Well I can't wait to meet this handsome G-man. I knew Badass Benson could get someone good; why have you waited so long?"

'Gee Alex, I don't know. Maybe it's the fact that I've given my heart to the man I think you love, and it's taken me three years to convince myself that I can't be selfish and settling down would be the best for him.' Knowing she couldn't say that, Olivia simply shrugged. With tonight's date and tomorrow's big raid, things were going to get pretty interesting in her life. For some reason, she would prefer to tangle with the Mob. 'Damn my life.'

**A/N: And that was Harvey Dent ladies and gentlemen. Hope I did him justice.**

**It was pretty fun bringing in all the little SVU characters to make up MCU, but I couldn't just leave out Gordon. We'll see him again in the story.**

**Three guesses who the mystery FBI agent is. Don't kill me when you find out, please.**

**Next up, a Wayne Enterprises Board meeting, a Stabler family dinner, and a spirited discussion featuring Harvey Dent. Don't act so glum, the Joker appears in the chapter after that **

**Please Review and share!**


	4. Chapter 4: Dinner Dates

**A/N: What's up everybody? I just want to give a shout out to theJokersbrother. You are truly the best fan ever! Why don't you set up your own account, if you don't mind me asking?**

**Secondly, to all the others who are reading and following my story, don't be shy. Leave a review please. I look forward to your input. I should be getting at least as many reviews as I have followers. Please!**

**Also, to all those TDK and SVU fans who love my story, share it with your friends on the site. I welcome new visitors with open arms.**

**Ok, now that my tearful plea to you is over, here is another filler chapter that concerns itself with the development of Bruce and Liv. Also, a certain FBI agent comes in. Please don't kill me.**

**By the way there's a little teaser at the end, so read closely.**

**A/N: If Liv and El aren't testifying at Penguin's trial, then I don't own either story.**

**PLEASE! PLEASE REVIEW! IT'S ALL I ASK!**

Chapter 4: Dinner Dates

After the near genocide that was the night of the Narrows Riots, Lucius Fox had sold the old Wayne Tower to the City of Gotham for a substantial sum, knowing that the central hub for the utilities and public transit could never fall into the wrong hands. Using the money, he had built a new Wayne Tower, a large glass structure that radiated modernity, backing up the company's new image of rebirth after Earle got indicted.

In the last three years, Fox had led the company into massive profits by greatly expanding the domestic sector, abandoning the illicit military developments that were the hallmark of the Earle years. The massive glut of cash led to a problem; while much of the money could be and was returned to the shareholders, the rules of corporate economics dictated that Wayne Enterprises find a new investment for its stockpiles, for it was never smart to have all a company's eggs in one basket. From his contacts at Lockheed Martin (where he had worked before being hired by WE), Fox received notice that it and BAE Systems (the premier British defense contractor) wanted Wayne Enterprises for the Joint Strike Fighter Program. Much of the technology Fox had developed would go a long way to improve the prototype Lockheed Martin F-35 Lightning II (a stealth, multirole fighter). Though he had his heart set on that deal, Bruce Wayne insisted on hearing out the other offer on the table, which was why Fox had called today's board meeting.

"In China, Lau Securities and Investments Limited stands for dynamic new growth. Within my country and most of Southeast Asia, we are the premier supplier of quality and energy efficient infrastructure for some of the world's fastest growing economies. Taking the basic structure of the Gotham City Monorail System and modifying it to suit the plethora of new technology developed since its creation, this joint venture between my company and Wayne Enterprises will be a powerhouse, returning nearly ten-fold on your initial investment and providing the cities of Hong Kong and Shanghai with effective mass transit for the next century."

The members of the board all clapped at the end, polite to the core even if they were confused as to why the big boss himself wanted to hear the man out. Ever since the old Earle wing of the company had been golden parachuted out, the new blood was fiercely patriotic and were keen on the JSF project with LM and BAE.

Ever the gentleman, Lucius Fox made sure to act like their guest was the most important person in the world. "Thank you Mr. Lau. Your plan is quite ambitious, but in my opinion that's a good thing."

Lau Qian, a slender man with the air of arrogance common to high-class Chinese (they called their nation The Middle Kingdom for a reason), smiled softly, "Well Mr. Fox, I am glad that you and the Wayne Enterprises board is giving great consideration to my offer. I give you my word that neither you nor your shareholders will regret it." He was also thankful that Fox gave him an excuse to come to Gotham; in addition to the meeting, he had urgent business that needed tending to and which had to be kept inconspicuous lest prying eyes got wind of it.

"We are deeply honored in your choosing us for this venture, and I speak for the board and Mr. Wayne," he motioned to the far side of the conference table where Bruce slept peacefully, "In expressing our own excitement over this planned joint venture between our two companies." Before Lau could respond, Bruce let out a loud snore, silencing all conversation in the room. Most of the board laughed; they had gotten used to the young Wayne's antics and found it somewhat charming. One man at the table, a young forensic accountant named Dale Stuckey, was less than amused.

"Goodbye Mr. Lau, and have a pleasant remainder of your stay in Gotham. I'll be sure to call you with our final decision." Said Fox to their Chinese guest at the elevator.

"I will eagerly be waiting for it Mr. Fox, and thank you again for your hospitality." They shook hands once more before the guest stepped into the elevator.

"Excuse me sir." Fox felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Yes Mr. uh, Stuckey right?"

"Yes sir." Stuckey was the kind of perky overachiever that most corporations clamored for. Plucking them right out of graduate school for pennies on the dollar, they worked like dogs for nearly a decade before the top ones advanced on to higher things. Stuckey was part of the latter group, though his years on the job hadn't yet stomped out his boyish features, bubbling (and annoying) personality, or his childish laugh. If he wasn't so good at his job, figured Fox, he would have been canned a while ago. "I'm sure the famous Bruce Wayne might sometimes get curious about how his trust fund gets replenished, but does he have to be here at these meetings?"

Chuckling lightly, Fox decided to go easy on the kid; he was only doing what he thought was right (only a few people knew how smart and involved Bruce Wayne really was, and Fox wanted to keep it that way). "Mr. Wayne is interested in the affairs of his company, so we put up with his little eccentricities."

"That wasn't eccentric sir, that was simply embarrassing, if not for the company or you personally then for Mr. Wayne himself. I don't think he should be here."

"You worry about the diligence Mr. Stuckey, I'll worry about Bruce Wayne. I have a lot of experience in that department." Fox turned to walk back into the boardroom.

Sighing, Stuckey called out to his boss. "It's done sir. I ran the numbers, and they all work out just as solidly as Lau said. Bing, Bang, Bong," he said with a frustrated smile.

"Run them again Mr. Stuckey. Wouldn't want the trust fund to run out." Fox smirked and entered the office.

"Right," mumbled Stuckey after the door closed.

Outside, Lau slid into the back seat of his limousine. Once the valet shut the door, he took out his encrypted satellite phone and called a private number. "Hello. This is Lau; my business is done and I'm ready for the meeting."

"Very good Mr. Lau," said the voice on the other end. "We can have it at Place Nightclub on Eighteenth St. When can you do it?"

"How about tomorrow morning, at around ten thirty?"

"Sounds perfect; I'll make sure everyone is there, Waugh, Waugh, Waugh.

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Staring at the iconic Gotham skyline (including such famous architectural marvels such as the Northrup Grumman Building, Linseed Hotel, and Municipal Tower – formerly the first Wayne Tower), Bruce subconsciously rubbed his wounded arm. Even with Alfred's precise stitching and a fresh bandage plastered over the wound, it still sung a little. Luckily for him, the Armani suit hid it quite nicely. 'Oh the things Liv and I go through,' he thought with a smirk on his face. He felt that if she wasn't in his life, he'd have to endure being the Batman completely alone (he would have Alfred, but merely as a supporting role). Olivia was his silent rock, and he was sure that if she wasn't there, he'd be far more broken than he was.

"Enjoying the view Mr. Wayne?" Bruce turned his head to see Lucius Fox return into the boardroom, now completely empty.

"Actually yes," replied Bruce. "It's much better now that the construction girders are gone." The new Wayne Tower hadn't been fully completed until last month, and the view was in fact ruined by the last minute touch ups.

"Mr. Wayne, I am constantly convincing the shareholders that your little eccentricities mask a cunning and intelligent mind, but it's times like these that make me wonder."

"Oh?" Bruce raised an eyebrow.

Fox walked up and stood right beside him, gazing out at the city as well. "We were set to take up the JSF project. This meeting with Lau to discuss the joint venture with his company was your idea, and it reminds me too much of the way Earle used to run things. I thought we agreed not to take up with rival governments or shady characters just to make a buck."

"And what makes you say that Lau is someone of that nature?" He already knew but wanted Fox to say it to give him plausible deniability.

"Lau's company is one of the top powerhouses in the Chines economy, but even with the growth our Communist friends are seeing wouldn't translate to the eight percent annual growth he has. His revenue stream must be off the books."

"Alright then Lucius," remarked Bruce without hesitation, "Cancel the deal. Call Lockheed Martin and BAE; tell them we're in on the JSF Program. Wouldn't want to be seed dealing with possible crooks now would we?"

Pondering his boss' quick statement, Fox gave him a knowing grin. "You already knew didn't you?"

Bruce shrugged innocently. "It might seem like I wanted to get a closer look at their books, but why would I do a thing like that?"

Chuckling, Fox deduced that his boss was not here just to talk about Wayne Enterprises. "Anything else I can do for you Mr. Wayne?"

Knowing he and Olivia could trust Fox with their lives, Bruce always was blunt with his supplier. "We need new suits Mr. Fox."

"Well three buttons is a bit nineties Mr. Wayne, and with only a cop's salary Detective Benson probably is in need of an expanded wardrobe."

Bruce couldn't help but snicker. "I'm not talking fashion so much as function." He handed the older man some sketches.

"Hmm? You want to be able to turn your head?"

"Actually that's Olivia's request, but I don't see the problem in being able to easily back out of the driveway." He was interrupted by the vibrating of his cell phone. Checking the caller ID, he scoffed at the number. "Speak of the devil."

"Talk to your friend Mr. Wayne, I'll see what I can do about this."

"Thanks." Fox smiled and walked out of the room. Flipping open the phone, Bruce brought it to his ear. "I know what you're going to say: I have the right to remain silent right?"

"Very funny Bruce," said Olivia, "Though I wouldn't mind you exercising that right every now and again. How'd the meeting go?"

"We got access to the books. I'm now completely convinced you have the right guy for tomorrow." Bruce wasn't worried about anyone tapping their phones; he had Fox prepare them an encrypted system similar to one designed for the US Armed Forces. It was considered by the NSA and Wayne Enterprises own tech nerds as completely uncrackable.

"Great to hear."

"So, what do you plan on doing to unwind before the big raid, a night at your apartment eating Mongolian Beef and a tub of chocolate ice cream?"

He could practically picture her rolling her eyes at him. "It's both sweet and disturbing that you know me so well Bruce," 'I'm going to go with sweet,' he thought, "But no actually; I'm going on a double date with Alex and Harvey Dent at the Capitol Hotel tonight."

"A double date?" Bruce was completely shocked. Olivia never went on dates as far as he knew. "Who's the guy?"

"No one you know," was Olivia's reply. Bruce suddenly felt jealous, but not of Harvey, which was the rational choice. He was jealous of mystery man. 'Jealous? Of Liv's date? You love Alex, so where is this coming from?' He rationalized it was just an overprotective urge on his part, even though he knew that the mystery guy didn't in any way deserve Liv. The more he thought about it though, the more intriguing the prospect of crashing the double date seemed. He could scope out mystery man and Harvey Dent at the same time; hit two birds with one stone.

"Have fun," he replied, grinning mischievously. He had some calls to make.

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The Capitol Hotel was Gotham's equivalent to the Ritz-Carleton in New York, and thusly was booked solid most of the time. That also translated to the five-star restaurant housed just left of the lobby, an elegant chophouse serving gourmet versions of classic American fare at ridiculously inflated prices. At least that was what Harvey Dent thought; though he had risen far into the upper echelons of society, at heart he was still the North Shore son of a steel worker. "Well milady," he said, opening the door of his Cadillac CTS sedan, "A night of dinner and conversation awaits."

"You have such a way with words," complemented Alex, stunning in a burgundy ankle-length gown with spaghetti straps. "Just remember though, if Olivia gets angry that we're late it's your fault."

Harvey chuckled incredulously. "First of all, I heard that Stabler was the hotheaded one. Secondly, I recall it was you that couldn't get enough of me earlier. I had to take a second shower." He gave her his best goofy grin, dripping with satisfaction.

Unable to control the blush forming on her peaches-and-cream cheeks, Alex slapped him on the shoulder. "Well Harvey, you did almost die, so in a way it was your fault."

Smirking, Harvey reached into his pocket. "Alright, let's make this simple." He held up his coin. "Heads, I'm right, tails I apologize."

"You don't seem scared that you might lose," she taunted as he flipped the coin.

"Nope," he replied, catching it in his palm and flipping it over, revealing George Washington's profile. "I make my own luck baby." Alex rolled her eyes as she always did at that particular remark. He was honestly too predictable sometimes.

Just as they walked into the lobby, they were busted. "Finally; I was wondering when you two would show up?" Dressed to kill in a black, knee-length dress that exposed her back shoulders, Olivia strode over to them forcefully, a wide smile the only thing not causing them to cower in fright. "How are you Alex?" she beamed, giving her cousin a warm hug. Once it was over, she broke away and turned to Harvey. "So this is the famous Harvey Dent; I must say, you look less intimidating than in the newspapers." 'She picked him over Bruce?' While Dent wasn't bad to look at, he wasn't even in the same class as her best friend.

At her comment, Alex gave her a scowl while Harvey just snickered. "Well, I can't be the killer I am in the courtroom all the time. Alex here brings out my second face."

Alex looked around the lobby. "So Liv, where's your mystery man? I've been dying to meet him."

"I'm not sure; he excused himself about thirty… ah, there he is." A tall man with light brown hair and a toned but slender build joined the trio, immediately standing beside Olivia with a hand on the small of her back. "Alex, Harvey, meet Special Agent Dean Porter."

"A pleasure to meet you both," said Porter, extending his hand that wasn't on Olivia's back and shaking Alex and Harvey's firmly. "It is quite an honor to meet the famous White Knight and the lovely Miss Cabot. Olivia talks quite a lot about you."

"So Agent Porter," pried Alex, acting her role as designated best girlfriend, "How did you and my cousin meet?"

Porter grinned sheepishly. "The Bureau was tracking some environmental crazies that wanted to blow up a few buildings here in Gotham, so I was sent to coordinate the operation with MCU. Let's just say the first time Olivia and I met was at the hospital when the Captain was nearly blown up from a house explosion." Olivia giggled at the memory.

"How is the fact that Elliot was almost killed funny?" asked Alex, while Harvey seemed intrigued.

"Because the only injury he had was a shrapnel fragment that bit him in the rear end." That set the two girls laughing while the men simply smirked.

Finished with the introductions, they entered the restaurant, where the server led them to their table. As the men hurried ahead, probably so they could pull out the seats for their dates, Alex turned and whispered in Olivia's ear, "He's hot." Olivia nodded halfheartedly. 'But he's no Bruce. Let it go Benson! You agreed that you would try to move on!'

A few minutes later, they were all settled in a small table in the middle of the restaurant. "This place is always packed," observed Olivia. "So Harvey, how did you manage to snag a table here?"

"It wasn't easy Detective. I had to do it three weeks ago, and mention that I worked for the government."

"Trust me," said Porter, "Doesn't work as often as you'd think."

"Liv, Alex, fancy seeing you here!" Olivia knew that voice anywhere, and tried hard not to blush. 'He looks as handsome as ever.'

"Yes Bruce," said Alex, "Fancy that."

Grinning, Bruce motioned to the blonde on his arm, who's petite frame was wrapped in a tight black dress that showed off her ample cleavage. "Everyone, this is Natasha. Natasha, this is Alex and Olivia."

"Natasha," said Olivia, trying to sound pleased when all she wanted to do was rip the girl's face off (she didn't even think Alex deserved Bruce, let alone the bimbos he usually dated). "As in…"

"…The prima ballerina for the Moscow Ballet yes," finished Bruce.

"Nice too meet you," said Alex, shaking the girl's hand (secretly noticing Liv's hidden hostility). "Harvey's taking me there next week."

"Oh really?" said Bruce with a slight smirk. He turned to Harvey, "So you're into ballet." Olivia hid a giggle. 'God what that man can do to me,' she thought.

Alex on the other hand gave an annoyed glare. "Bruce, this is Harvey Dent, my boyfriend and Gotham's new DA." Olivia could notice the subtle flash of hurt that passed over his eyes, and wished she could take it away. Before she knew it though, he was back to his charming self. 'I wonder if she truly knows how much he's suffering.'

"So you're the famous Bruce Wayne," remarked Harvey, standing up. "Alex has told me everything about you."

"Well, I certainly hope not," he smirked.

"Bruce," she said, "This is Special Agent Dean Porter of the FBI."

"It's nice to meet one of the most well-known figures of the business world."

"Likewise for one of the US Government's fine law enforcement officials," replied Bruce, not liking this guy at all. It wasn't that he didn't deserve Liv, which he didn't. It wasn't that Bruce was jealous of him, which he was for some baffling reason. He couldn't shake it, but Bruce detected a shady, cold look in Porter's eyes. It was familiar but damned if he could remember. 'What the hell, it's probably just that overprotective urge again.' "So, how about we bring over a bigger table that can fit us all in."

"I'm not sure they'd do that," said Porter.

"Oh they would," replied Bruce, eager to show the guy up. "I own the place." He motioned to the waiters, who began to rush to get the table. Alex rolled her eyes while Olivia couldn't help but laugh.

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"Elliot honey, could you pass the mashed potatoes?"

"Sure Kath, as long as Dickie can promise not to chuck some at his sister."

"Hey, I resent that!" shouted Dickie, the thirteen year old giving his father a "Badass Benson" glare (Olivia's special nickname translating into several adjectives in MCU and the Stabler household). Elliot laughed and withheld the bowl until Dickie relented, knowing that he'd be busted if broke his promise.

"Ha! Take that Dickwad…oww! Daaad!" cried Kathleen, rubbing her head. "Dickie threw a roll at me!"

Now it was the elder Stabler's turn to glare. "Son, you promised."

"As I recall dad, I promised not to throw the mashed potatoes. You said nothing about the rolls."

"He's got you there dad," chuckled Maureen, home from college for the weekend. Even Kathy was smirking.

Suppressing a laugh of his own, Elliot whacked his son on the head. "Smart alleck!" 'Just like I was,' he left out.

"Nice one dad!" piped Lizzie, not one to be left out of the conversation. She and her dad hi fived, which got the entire table laughing, even Dickie. He was too young to have foolish pride.

Sighing, Elliot took the sight of his family before him. With Maureen off at the University of Gotham, Kathleen preoccupied with her teenage antics, and his work they hardly got to do stuff like this anymore. That they were doing this tonight was just what he needed for tonight's operation. Once the shit with the mob was over with, which Batman and Batgirl promised was soon, h vowed to spend more time at home, if not for his kids then for Kathy. Elliot couldn't help but feel that their marriage was in trouble, and that his job was responsible.

"So dad," he was brought out of his reverie by Maureen, who looked at his knowingly. "How's work doing? Have you and Aunt Liv caught the Joker yet?"

"Who's the Joker?" asked Lizzie and Dickie simultaneously, both possessing the natural Stabler curiosity.

"No one you need to concern yourselves with!" snapped Elliot, not wanting his family and his work to mingle.

Rolling her eyes, Kathleen decided to explain it to her brother and sister. "He's a crazy bastard who robs banks and kills people, rather gruesomely I might add."

"Kathleen!" chided Kathy, "Language!"

The middle Stabler child apologized but then looked at her father questioningly. "Tell me that I'm wrong."

Kathy gave Elliot a look that said 'She's definitely your daughter!' "No Kathleen, you're not wrong. Where'd you hear about him anyway?"

"School and other places," she deadpanned, tossing her hair back. 'God, what happened to the cute little girl who used to crawl into bed with me?' thought Elliot as he stared at the snarky sixteen year old in front of him. She was better now that she was on her medication, but the normal teenage crap was still there.

"Don't worry," blurted Dickie, "Batman and Batgirl will take care of him! If they don't, dad and Aunty Liv will. No criminal can escape from them."

Elliot smiled, ruffling his son's hair affectionately. "Thanks son, but we don't always catch the bad guys."

"I don't believe it," said Dickie, shaking his head. "You and Liv are the best there are! Aside from Batman and Batgirl you are the heroes of Gotham."

Stunned by his son's words, Elliot couldn't do anything but gape. He knew Dickie thought highly of him but not this much. "I don't know what to say."

"Dad," said Maureen, putting her hand on his, "We all think you're a hero. All of us, including mom."

"That's right honey," said Kathy, smiling widely.

"You see dad," added Dickie, "You're the reason I want to be a cop when I'm older. I would love to help people like you do." Elliot couldn't help but smile.

Once the kids were all in bed, Elliot stood in the empty kitchen washing the dishes. He was so focused he didn't hear the light footsteps behind him. "I'm so glad you're staying the night Elliot," purred Kathy, enveloping him from behind.

"Me too. I never knew the kids though so highly of me."

"Well you're a good father Elliot, as well as a good husband."

"I'm sorry I can't be around more Kathy," said Elliot, turning around and pulling his wife into a hug.

Kathy softly stroked his back through his shirt. "It's ok Elliot. I understand that work can be stressful. Since you're home now though…" she pulled away and wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Elliot growled and picked her up bridal style, causing her to laugh.

"Let's see what I can think of," he replied, carrying her to the stairs.

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The dinner was very animated, but not in the way Olivia and Bruce would have liked. Neither one of them was in to small talk, her being a typical no nonsense kind of girl nor him possessing the innate Wayne disliking of idle chit chat (it always irked Olivia when people commented on how she was friends with a snobbish billionaire; if there was any word that didn't describe Bruce it was snobbish).

However, as most conversations did in 2007 Gotham City, the topic turned to Batman and Batgirl. "So did everyone hear the mayor's interview with Nick Ganzler this morning?" asked Olivia, interjecting something new into the discussion. "He says we're close to catching the Batman and Batgirl," she scoffed, "As if. Currently, our top suspects include Marilyn Monroe, Elvis, Bigfoot, Princess Di, and my personal favorite Abe Lincoln."

"The mayor's a pompous blowhard on his good days," added Alex. "I should know, Harvey sees him almost every day. The Batman and Batgirl aren't threats."

"That's not what my bosses back in DC think," said Porter, his left hand on Olivia's knee. For some reason, that bothered Bruce more than the affectionate displays Alex and Harvey were making (he thought it was because he was starting to like the idealistic Dent, while Porter just gave him a bad vibe). "They're worried about terrorists or rogue nations getting advanced equipment from him."

"Finally!" exclaimed Bruce, throwing both hands in the air like a congregant in a Baptist church. "The thick headed bureaucrats get their heads out of their asses to see the real threat. Just imagine what Saddam would have done with that, uh, Batmobile." Olivia smirked, remembering how she told him what Dickie Stabler called the Tumbler.

"Now hold on," said Harvey, who surprised both Liv and Bruce by defending the Batman and Batgirl. "I think the feds should concentrate on the terrorists, not someone who's just trying to help. I'd feel safer both for myself and the men, women, and children that are my constituents."

"I can't understand why anyone could raise children in a city like this," said Natasha, bringing herself into the discussion.

Chuckling, Bruce pointed to himself. "Now I can't say anything about the rest of you," he quipped, earning Badass Benson glares from Alex and their namesake, "But I was raised here and I turned out alright."

"We all have different definitions of alright Bruce," shot back Olivia, causing Porter to chuckle.

"Is Wayne Manor even in the city limits?" asked Harvey.

"The South Shore Palisades. Of course; you know as our new DA, you should probably figure out where your jurisdiction ends."

"I'm talking about a city that idolizes two masked vigilantes."

"Gotham City is proud of two ordinary citizens standing up for what's right," said Harvey, causing Bruce and Liv to respect him a little bit more. They couldn't help but like someone who admired their work.

"Gotham should look up to elected officials like you, not someone who thinks he's above the law."

"Exactly," said Olivia hating to agree with the Russian hussy (she didn't like them when they were Communist and she didn't like them now). "Who appointed the Batman and Batgirl anyway?"

"We did," replied Harvey, getting more animated as the discussion went on. "We all did when sat back and let scum take over our city."

"But this is a democracy Harvey."

"In ancient times, when the enemies were at the gates, the Romans would suspend democracy and appoint one man to protect the Republic." Bruce and Liv shared a knowing look, liking what they heard. This Dent guy was the real deal. "He didn't see it as an honor, he saw it as a public service."

"Harvey," said Alex, stroking his arm. "The last person to hold that position was named Augustus, and he never gave up his power."

"Ok," Harvey replied, looking serious, "You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain. Look, whoever they are, Batman and Batgirl don't want to do this forever, how could they? They're looking for someone to take up their mantle." Brue and Liv looked quickly at each other, and then at Alex, who looked back. She could see what they saw, that they were both intrigued.

"Someone like you Mr. Dent?" asked Porter, nursing his scotch.

"Maybe, if God truly wills it."

"Could it be that Harvey Dent," Natasha held up a piece of paper, covering Harvey's eyes and nose, "Is the Caped Crusader himself."

"Well that settles it!" laughed Liv. "Let me get my handcuffs!"

"Is there something you're not telling us Alex?" chided Bruce, earning a glare from his friend and another laugh out of Liv.

Harvey let out a nervous chuckle. "I think someone would have noticed me sneaking out at night." He clasped Alex's hand warmly.

Olivia looked at Bruce, having one of their silent conversations. "He's the real deal."

"Yep Liv, he sure is. We have a way out now."

Much as she wanted that for his sake, a part of her didn't. If he quit, that meant he'd be with Alex, and that prospect broke her heart. 'No Liv! It's for him, not you. Suck it up.' She reflected that she spent more time looking at him than at her date, not that she minded. Porter might have been handsome, but she had no illusions that anyone she was with other than Bruce would be settling.

"I'm sold. Dent, I'm going to throw you a fundraiser."

"No Mr. Wayne, you don't have to. I'm not up for reelection for three years."

"You don't understand, one night with my pals and you'll never need another cent."

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"Velez, Maroni wants all of us to meet up at Place Nightclub at ten AM tomorrow morning."

"While I would rather stay at home that early in the morning Darius, I know what happens during the night. _Que no se puede evitar_ – it cannot be helped."

"There we go!" exclaimed the young hacker, excited that he just managed to break through the mob's encryption network. It was good, but nod good enough to defeat him.

"Did you get it?" asked his employer.

The hacker handed over the transcript. "Yep; Place Nightclub, ten AM sharp." His employer gave him the creeps, but five hundred bucks was five hundred bucks. "So, about my payment?"

His employer turned, smirking. "Yeh, about that. I've decided no payment is forthcoming."

"What? We had a deal!"

Giggling like a madman, 'I suppose I am in the legal sense,' the man approached the hacker, looking into his soul with the black eyes of death. "You say we have a deal right? RIGHT!" The young hacker nodded, suddenly scared for his own life.

The man suddenly dragged the hacker to a stovetop, flicking the switch. The grill began to light up, the orange glow indicating that the heat was rising. "Well young man," he said, tongue darting out to lick the side of his mouth. "If you choose the game without rules, you have to first know how to play." Casually, he dropped the fingertips not grasping the hacker onto the grill, immediately causing smoke to rise from the sizzling flesh like vapors. The man didn't even flinch, only curling his mouth into a devilish grin, which looked enormous due to the red lipstick that traveled the length of his scars.

After what seemed like hours, he removed his fingers from the stove. "Your turn." Cackling uncontrollably, he plunged the hacker's hand onto the stove. Watching the hacker scream, he broke into a fit of giggles. "He, he, if you need rules to play, he, he, he, then you shouldn't compete, he, he." He released his grip, causing the hacker to bolt, not even bothering to take his laptop.

"Fool," the Joker said to himself. "If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen." He looked at his surroundings and laughed like a maniac. 'The fun's just beginning,' he thought. 'It will all come to fruition soon.' The baying laughter echoed through the empty room.

**A/N: Hoped you liked my little teaser. I'm planning on putting far more original Joker material in the story, and trust me, it will be badass.**

**If you're worried about Porter, don't be. I hate him with a passion, and will never understand why the SVU showrunners had Olivia be interested in him but not be with Elliot. In this Trilogy, I have big plans for Dean Porter, and you will be blown away.**

**It seems like Olivia's feelings are getting more press than Bruce's, but don't fret. She's had more time to dwell on them, and I haven't even started doing Bruce yet. There will be far more scenes to do so.**

**Couldn't resist putting some Stabler Family fluff in there. I plan to give two of the Stabler kids important rolls in here and in the sequel.**

**Next up: the Joker crashes the mob party!**

**Please Review! It's so easy!**


	5. Chapter 5: A Modest Proposal

**A/N: Come on guys! It's so easy. Please review! I'd love to hear your opinions. Also don't forget to share the story with your friends in site and out.**

**Don't hate me for the first section of this chapter, but I have a plan.**

**I'll be putting a little innuendo concerning Porter and the Joker in this and future chapters. See if you can see it.**

**Here, there's the big operation, and a certain clown crashes the Mob's strategy meeting.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything [insert angry rant]**

**REVIEW!**

Chapter 5: A Modest Proposal

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

"Urrgghh!" Olivia pried her eyes open with a groan, flailing her arm wildly to shut off the infernal machine. It took a while due to the intense hangover she had from knocking back several vodka rocks last night after dinner concluded. "Never again," she grunted through clenched teeth as she finally found the alarm switch.

'What the hell happened last night?' Swinging her legs out of bed, she wandered to the bathroom in her cheap, one bedroom apartment in the Narrows (now marginally safer due to her nocturnal activities). Unable to see well from her bloodshot eyes, Olivia grabbed a bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet and swallowed four dry, splashing her face with water afterwards. Her eyes not sticky with grime, Olivia opened them and gasped. She was naked; she never slept naked, unless…

Suddenly remembering some of last night, Olivia hit her head with the palm of her hand. "Shit!" She had slept with Porter (AN: _Don't kill me!_) last night, another one of her futile attempts at getting over her true feelings. "How could I have been so stupid?" Olivia asked God. "I need to move on, not have another drunken romp." It was so humiliating; she worked with him for Christ's sake! The fact that he wasn't here led her down the embarrassing path that always happened. She would get shitfaced at some bar and pick up a guy who looked like the love of her life. They'd go to her apartment, things would get hot and heavy, but she couldn't enjoy it as well as he did (once she called out Bruce's name right in the middle of it). The guy would storm out and she would cry herself to sleep. 'Not again!'

Fifteen minutes later, a towel wrapped around her as she stepped out of the shower, Olivia headed into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, the staple drink for a member of the police department. Grabbing a carton of milk out of the fridge, she noticed a note on the freezer door. _Olivia, sorry I couldn't stay the night. Had a call that sent me to Boston for the next week. Sorry! I'll call you later. Dean._

"Well," said Olivia, "At least I didn't embarrass myself too much. That should count as a win in my love life," she quipped dryly, laughing even though it was more sad than comedic. While the relationship with Dean wasn't a total cluster fuck as with the other guys, the morning's fear made Olivia realize something. Sure Porter was a good catch; he was handsome, smart, had a good build, understood the stresses of a job in law enforcement, and was dedicated, but he just wasn't Bruce. The only reason she agreed to go out with him in the beginning was the fact he reminded her of her best friend (they did look similar, but there was something uncannily familiar between the two that Olivia couldn't place). She had to face facts, if she couldn't be with Bruce, then she couldn't be with anyone. It was sad and unfair, but Olivia knew it to be true, and she loved her friend too much to try and pursue him. He was in love with Alex, and she couldn't hurt him for her own selfish reasons.

Olivia had just finished donning her classy long-sleeve t-shirt when her cell phone began to ring. "Hi El," she said into the receiver, knowing it was him without even looking.

"Ready to rock Liv?"

She clipped her badge and gun to her belt. "Damn straight!"

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Place Nightclub was one of the hottest new clubs in Gotham, but even with its popularity, the building was practically abandoned at ten AM. This made it the perfect spot for meetings of the clandestine nature, whether it be for businessmen hiding affairs, celebrities hiding from the press, or in today's case, criminals hiding from the law.

Clad in a leather jacket and jeans, jet black, shoulder-length hair gelled back, Marko A. Aleksayev entered the large kitchen, the metal detector in front of the door beeping. A solemn faced guard held out his hand, in which Aleksayev placed his stainless steel plated Makarov pistol, a gift from his father in Russia. Stepping in, his entourage of lieutenants close behind, he found an empty group of seats right next to Maroni and his crew. Sal extended his hand, clasping Aleksayev's warmly. They were friends, well as much as two mob bosses could be friends.

Sitting right next to Maroni, between his boss and the Russians, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot surveyed the assembled masses. The entire extended command structure of the Gang of Seven, Gotham's premier criminal organizations, were present, a veritable schmorgas board if Benson and Stabler got wind of it. 'Well, that's why I'm here.'

To his left, sitting next to Maroni's group was Liam Connors, once the top assassin for the PIRA (provisional wing of the Irish Republican Army). Nicknamed the Ghost, it was said he could walk through walls to get his targets, and naturally got a reputation. After banking considerable funds, he went on his own, becoming the top in exporting guns and other contraband out of the United States. Through his business, he received a new nickname in Gotham. While always gracious to his guests, one couldn't get him to say more than five words at once on most occasions. However, the icing on the cake was when he killed a police informant by leaving him in a freezer for three days, the cold turned to max power. Afterwards, everyone called him Mr. Freeze.

Penguin's own employees was the Couple in Crime themselves, Sal Maroni and Delia Wilson-Maroni. Dubbed that by the press, the Couple in Crime were very much in love, but maintained strictly independent business dealings. Delia was the queen madam of Gotham, pimping out dozens of beautiful girls to a who's who of the city's elite. That was the main reason no one managed to tie penguin to any crime; all of his expenses were funneled through one of Delia's front groups, out of sight and out of mind.

Sitting opposite Aleksayev was Darius Parker, leader of the Black underworld. The son of a prominent Black Panther, Darius abandoned fighting for his race to making money, and lots of it. He owned the slums, and collected millions in protection rackets, with those who refused paying the price. He never went anywhere without his half-brother and personal enforcer, Ken Randall, and was famous for his short temper. No one in Gotham forget when he stabbed his girlfriend to death by shoving a knife through her cervix over and over again. That the jury acquitted him was an even more sensational story.

While Connors mostly dealt with shipping goods out of the US, Andre Bushido was the go to guy for bringing illegal goods into the US. With his partner in crime Cornelius Tybor, Bushido practically owned the wharves of Gotham and nearly a dozen cities all across the globe. While most of his money was brought in through girls and drugs, he was most well-known for his trade in exotic animals, which he was renowned for. Penguin remembered Bushido once killing a double-crossing associate with a Bengal Tiger, another with a pack of Hyenas. The crime scene on that one gave even him the shivers.

Last but not least was the _Fraternidad_ – the Brotherhood – cartel's representative in Gotham, Cesar Velez. A man with a sense of style, always with a cigar and a well-tailored Italian or British suit, Velez handled the day to day affairs of the most feared criminal organizations on Earth, and was well known for launching high profile hits, once even targeting ADA Alexandra Cabot. If you wanted anything to do with the cocaine trade in Gotham, Velez was it.

"Ok everyone, we are all here, Waugh, Waugh, Waugh," said Penguin, who had gone to great lengths to set this meeting up. "How is everyone feeling?"

"Peachy," growled Darius Parker sitting opposite him. "Now where is Lau?"

"I was just on the phone with him. He should be in shortly."

"Shortly isn't good enough!"

"Patience is a virtue Darius," said Connors. "He'll come; just give it time."

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"Ok, here's the plan," shouted Elliot in the MCU bullpen. "Each of us goes on a two man team with SWAT to the target banks. We smash through high, hard, and fast before anyone has the chance to pull any funny business or destroy evidence. Remember the claymore meth lab run by Parker's boys." No one was about to forget that, especially Fin, who almost had his ass blown to hell.

Sitting down, Olivia took over, a Kevlar vest fitting snugly over her lithe frame (though not as well as her Batgirl suit). "Alright, Elliot and I will take the first target. Fin and Dani get target two; Lenny and Blaine hit target three; Breslin and Lake get target four; Goren and Eames get target five and last but not least, Dana and the rookie will take target five."

"Hey," complained Jim Gordon, "I have a name you know."

"We know you do rookie," said Fin, chuckling. "Just make sure to keep your gun pointed away from you on the job." Grinning, he and Dani shared a high five while Gordon simmered. Olivia could sympathize; he was just eager to prove himself.

"Enough guys. Get your gear in order and let's roll!" In this unit, when Elliot gave an order you did as commanded; the only one who defied him and got away with it was Olivia, and everyone knew it.

Ten minutes later, each raid group barreled toward the targets, three squad cars and two SWAT vans filled to the brim with submachine gun toting troopers. No one was taking any chance with the mob; after the Joker's latest heist, the assumption was that each bank had mob goons armed to the teeth. Olivia felt bad about that; ever since she and Bruce donned the masks, Freeze Connors had brought in the latest Russian and European heavy arms for the mob soldiers, anticipating an attack.

"So how was your double date last night?"

Olivia looked up, shocked that Elliot brought it up. Aside from Bruce, Alfred, and Alex, he was the only one she confided in, but to ask now? "It was fine."

"Watch yourself Liv; Porter's a dick."

"You stalking me now?" she asked, only half serious. She was actually pleased that he cared so much, even if it got annoying.

"No Liv, just looking out for you. The guy's bad news, I can feel it."

"It was your own damn fault getting those splinters in your ass Stabler and you know it," she smirked, punching his arm.

Elliot groaned, looking ahead to see the uniform driving the squad car glancing back through the rearview mirror, grinning. "Hey, eyes on the road buddy!" he yelled, making Olivia chuckle.

"I appreciate you caring about me Elliot, but I'm a big girl. I'm actually not going to see him again."

"You're not, shit!" he slapped his forehead. "I forgot to tell you, they caught Mike Jurgens."

"Really?" asked Olivia. Jurgens was a surgeon at Gotham General wanted for three counts of rape. He skipped town ahead of the arrest warrant, and Interpol hand no hits so far. "Where?"

"Would you believe, the Philippines?"

"Exotic," remarked Olivia. "So what does this have to do with Porter?"

"Next week, you're on a flight to Manila. Porter is going to join you three days later to formally extradite and bring Jurgens back to Gotham. Didn't know about you two breaking up though, much at it relieves me."

Olivia laughed mirthlessly, rubbing her slicked up hair. "Great, oh how my life is fucked up!"

Elliot patted her on the back. "Cheer up Liv. You'll find someone good."

'Trouble is, I already did, and he's the one person I can't be with.'

"Cap, Lt, we're here." Stepping out of Olivia and Elliot mode and into Benson and Stabler mode, the two partners unholstered their SigSauers and stepped out of the squad car, filing into line behind the SWAT troopers running up the steps toward the bank.

"This is Stabler, report in," yelled Elliot over the radio.

"Lake and Breslin standing by."

"Briscoe and Blaine standing by."

"Goren and Eames standing by."

"Beck and Tutuola standing by."

"Gordon and Lewis standing by."

"Alright, move in!"

Elliot gave Liv a thumbs up, and she pumped her fist before turning to the SWAT leader. "Hit it!" The SWAT team charged into the bank, causing frightened yelps and screams to come from the staff and customers. "Gotham Police Department! Search warrant!" While the unis behind them went to cuff and detain the different people in the bank, Olivia and Elliot led the SWAT troopers to the vault room.

"You!" snarled Elliot to a well-dressed man in a three-piece suit. "You the president?" At the man's frantic nods, Elliot grabbed him by the hand and dragged him by the color of his shirt to the vault room. "Open the vault!" Shaking the man did as ordered. 'This is easy,' thought Olivia. 'Too easy.'

The vault open, the SWAT troopers charged in, guns leveled in case of an ambush. "Uh, sir," called one, his voice shaky. "You should come and see this." Olivia and Elliot walked in, and at once their jaws dropped. The vault was completely empty, litter and old money bags scattered all over the place.

"There's nothing in here!" screamed Fin over the radio.

"Fuckers flew the coop," grumbled Gordon.

"Well this is a kick in the pants," quipped Briscoe.

"They knew we were coming," yelled Eames.

"So what now Cap?" asked Lake.

Olivia looked at her partner and Captain, seeing the vein on his neck bulging with anger. She walked over to him to see what was angering him. In the middle of the room was five stacks of hundreds, about fifty thousand in total. A note lied next to the stacks.

_Dear Lt. Benson and Cpt. Stabler,_

_Sorry I couldn't be here, but I had a flight to catch._

_Lau Qian_

_XOXO_

Yelling a guttural cry of anger, Elliot kicked one of the stacks across the room.

'Time to bring in Batman and Batgirl,' thought Liv.

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Drumming his fingers over the table, Penguin checked his watch yet again. If the reports of the raid that the deep cover moles that he recruited for Maroni and Connors in MCU were accurate, Lau could already be picked up and in Stabler's custody by now.

"Where is that skinny ass slant-eyed motherfucker!" hollered Darius Parker, not one to keep his opinions to himself. Penguin wasn't the only one in the room to roll their eyes in annoyance. Even Bushido, who once shot a man in his employ because he had a resemblance to Captain Stabler, could control himself when necessary.

The tension was broken by two hulking Chinese gangsters hauling in a flat screen TV, setting it at the table where Lau would be sitting at. "What the hell is this?" blurted Darius again, only to be answered when the screen turned on to reveal Lau Qian, smartly dressed in a checkered, grey suit.

"Please forgive me gentlemen for not being able to meet you in person. In this line of work, you must appreciate a certain level of paranoia as the cost of doing business."

"Got it," said Parker, "Now can we get to the point already?"

"Naturally Mr. Parker. As you are all aware, one our seven deposits was stolen from Mr. Cleary's bank today."

"The rapist?" asked Connors, normally a man of few words.

"Yeh," replied Maroni, "A legacy of my immediate predecessor." Despite Penguin's diligence and several bloody purges, the deadwood from the Falcone era still hadn't been completely cleared out.

"At any rate, it was a trivial sum; sixty-eight million." While to a casual observer, that would seem like a massive amount, even in the post Batman/Batgirl era the Gotham underworld raked in nearly three billion in profits any given year. Sixty-eight million was mere chump change.

"Who stupid enough to steal from us?" said Aleksayev. It was, however, a matter of personal pride. The cops didn't touch them, let alone common thieves.

"My man here has found the culprit," said Maroni, tapping Penguin on the shoulder. He bristled at the denigration to a mere subordinate, but at least Sal treated him with some respect.

"Yes I have, Waugh, Waugh, Waugh." Penguin could here Darius's groan of anger. While everyone thought of him as some freak, Parker absolutely loathed him, and the feeling was mutual. Unfazed by the hostility however, Penguin passed out several large folders to the assembled group. "He's called the Joker, a name coined by our good friend Elliot Stabler. He's only been active in Gotham for the past two-and-a-half years, but there is a string of similar crimes going back several decades that match his modus operandi. He's fond of theatrics like our masked friends, though they often verge into the macabre, like burning or premortem knife mutilation. The best term to describe the Joker is unpredictable, though his crimes have a documented pattern of escalation in size and scope, although murder has been in his playbook from the beginning."

"Thanks Oz," interrupted Maroni. "So bottom line, he's a two bit wackjob in a cheap purple suit and makeup. He's not the problem he's a nobody. The problem is our money getting tracked by Benson and Stabler. I'm sure Mr. Lau is here to divulge his insights on that."

"Quite right Mr. Maroni. Thanks to the high placed sources Mr. Cobblepot acquired for us, MCU is planning to seize all your funds in a shock-and-awe raid as we speak." Grinning, his cigarette holder wedged between his teeth, Penguin gave Parker and Bushido a half smile half sneer, causing both, men to give him a homicidal glare. Lau, who didn't know or just didn't care about the internal tension within the Gang of Seven, continued with his speech. "Since the enthusiastic boy scout of a DA has put all my competitors out of business, I'm your only option at this time, and I assure you, that time is about to run out."

"So what's your plan?" asked Delia, who in some ways was the smarter spouse of the Couple in Crime.

"We cash in all your investments into hard currency, and then move those funds to a secure location somewhere in the city, not a bank though."

"Where then?" growled Bushido, who hated not knowing the ins and outs of his business interests.

"No one can know but me," deadpanned Lau over the speakers. "If the police were to gain leverage over one of you, then everyone's assets would be at stake. All I can tell you is the secure location is in a spot where no one would think of looking. It is in no way connected to yourselves or your front holdings, and is also not connected to Lau Securities and Investments either."

"What stop them getting to you?" probed Aleksayev, the thick Russian accent evident in his voice.

"I go to Hong Kong, thousands of miles away from Dent's jurisdiction. Also, the Chinese won't extradite one of their own, first of all as a matter of national policy, and second because I know the intimate secrets of several high-ranking members in the Politburo." Most of those assembled chuckled; it was funny how extortion worked in any culture.

Oswald C. Cobblepot was not laughing however. Penguin's brain was screaming at him to tell Lau to go fuck himself, but the others seemed interested. "How soon can you move the money?" asked Velez, puffing on a Cohiba cigar that cost as much as Penguin's tux.

"I already have." The camera panned out to reveal that Lau was in a Gulfstream IV private jet, probably over the Pacific Ocean right now. "Due to reasons that will become obvious, I couldn't wait for your permission."

Tapping Maroni on the shoulder furiously, Penguin began to whisper frantically in his boss' ear. "Sal, I have a bad feeling about this. Let me handle MCU. Once I'm done, Dent's birdbrained schemes will fall apart in his bare hands. These matters are always better handled within the family."

Sensing the heated conversation, Lau cut in. "I know you are skeptical Mr. Cobblepot, but I can assure you that myself, as well as your money, is completely safe from the hands of Harvey Dent and MCU."

The conversation was interrupted by a gravelly voice from the back of the room. "Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ho, he, he, ha, ha, ha, ho, ho, he, he, he, he, ha." Out of the shadows, dressed in his signature purple suit and his face and chin burn scar covered in white makeup, the entire Glasgow Smile painted bright red with lipstick, was the Joker in the flesh. "And I thought my jokes were bad!"

"What are you doing here?" asked Penguin, actually curious. Not even the completely retarded would crash a mob meeting with the Joker's pedigree, so if he did there was going to be a good reason.

"Well my monocled friend, [_tongue licks corner of mouth_] I was going to wait for this moron's discussion to end, but God almighty that speech! I'd do anything to stop it."

As if on cue, Parker began making threats. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't have my boy Kenny pull your head off." Surprisingly, the threat was delivered calmly without the usual Parker venom.

The Joker's answer was even more surprising. "How bout' a magic trick. Through the wonders of prestidigitation," he took out a metal pencil with a sharp tip in place of an eraser and stuck the front end into the wood of the table, "I am going to make this pencil – disappear! Zada zing, zada zoom…" Darius, a look of shocked disgust on his face, snapped his fingers, causing Kenny to rise. "Abracadabra." Kenny placed his hand on the Joker's neck, but before he could react, the Joker grabbed his head and drove it straight through the pencil, killing Kenny immediately. "TA DA!" He hovered his hands over the spot, now devoid of pencil. "It's gone."

Penguin chuckled, for he liked this guy's style. 'Oh wouldn't it be a hoot if this was directed in the right direction?' By the impressed and slightly amused looks of the other persons in the room, sans-Parker, they were obviously thinking the same thoughts.

The Joker, straightening his blazer, turned to look at Darius. "Oh by the way, [_tongue licks corner of mouth_] this suit was not cheap. You should know, you bought it!"

Darius made to go and pound the Joker himself but was stopped by Aleksayev of all people. "Sit! I want to hear proposition."

Scowling, Darius glanced at the rest of the assembled underworld leaders. "What about you guys? You want to hear this cocksucker out?"

"Couldn't hurt," mumbled Velez.

"I'd like to see where he's going with this," stated Bushido curtly.

"We cannot deny our guest the right to speak," said Connors, always the gracious host.

Maroni looked at Penguin to get his input. Penguin took another look at the Joker before turning back to Maroni, nodding his head. "Fine by me," said the Italian crime boss.

"I'm with my husband," declared Delia.

The Joker, his white teeth glinting in contrast to his lipstick covered lips and glaring burn scar on his chin, scraggly green hair haphazardly covering his forehead, stared directly at Darius. "I guess that makes you the only holdout." He gave the gangster a pout, complete with puppy dog eyes that made Penguin want to laugh out loud.

Throwing his hands up in defeat, Darius sat in his seat, simmering.

"Excellent, we're all in agreement. Now gather around kiddies, it's story time." He sat in one of the metal chairs, leaning on the table with his elbows. "Let's wind the clock back three years. These cops and lawyers wouldn't dare to touch any of you. Normal citizens [_tongue licks corner of mouth_] would flee at the very mention of your names. What happened since then, did your balls drop off, hmmm?" He paused for dramatic effect, letting the less than glorious changes over the past three years sink in. "You see a guy like me…"

"A freak," growled Darius, earning a round of laughter from the rest of them. Penguin shook his head in frustration. Parker's temper would get him killed one of these days.

The Joker was unfazed. "A guy like me... listen." He cleared his throat, leaning in to change the subject. "I know why you choose to have your little group therapy sessions in broad daylight. I know why you refuse to even take a piss without ten goons armed with Kalashnikovs or light machine guns hovering around you. I know why you're afraid to go out at night." By now, the entire room, even Darius and Lau were listening with rapt attention. "The Batman and Batgirl. You see, Batman and Batgirl have shown Gotham your true colors unfortunately. They have exposed the Godfather-like romantic myth and fear inducing reputation to show who you really are, [_tongue licks corner of mouth_] a group of thugs whose power is a mile long and an inch deep. Dent, Benson, and Stabler? Phhtt," he dismissed them with a wave of a gloved hand. "They're just the beginning of a long descent into the abyss [_tongue licks corner of mouth_]."

'This guy is good,' thought Penguin, grinning and leaning back in his chair.

The Joker, eyes scanning the room, settled on the flatscreen bearing Lau's image. "And as for the, uh, the Television's so-called plan; the Batman and Batgirl don't have any jurisdictions. They don't need to worry about things like diplomacy [_tongue licks corner of mouth_] or international incidents. They'll go to Ching-chong land, find him, and make him squeal." His voice was almost a giggle. "In my decades of experience, I know the squealers when I see them, and Television here," he pointed at Lau, clicking his tongue. "You look in a dictionary under the name squealer, his face will pop up."

"Well, I should be going gentlemen." Lau brought his palm to the camera, turning it off and leaving the flatscreen blank.

"So, what you propose?" asked Aleksayev, who sat closest to the Joker.

The Joker's face lit up into a wide smile. "Oh it's simple, we kill the Batman and Batgirl."

The mobsters all snickered, all except for Penguin, who merely grinned. 'Now that's something I can sign off on!'

His boss though was more skeptical. "You talk tough, but if it's so simple, why haven't you done it already?"

"Ah, [_tongue licks corner of mouth_] this is America Mr. Maroni." He holds up a hand as if giving a lecture. "If you're good at something never do it for free."

'An excellent mantra,' thought Penguin.

"Now with that statement, I can gather you wouldn't do this out of the goodness of your heart," said Connors.

"You gather right Freeze [_tongue licks corner of mouth_]."

"So how much will it cost us to procure you're services?"

Leaning in until he was almost lying flat against the table, the Joker dropped his voice to a loud whisper. "Half."

The room erupted in baying laughter, with only Penguin thinking it was worth the expenditure. 'This fool doesn't care about money. We can get it all back if we plan this right.' Suddenly an idea popped into his head, and idea to resolve one of his long-held goals. However it played out, he knew the Joker would play an important part.

"You're crazy!" seethed Darius with an evil grin.

"I'm not. No I'm not," the Joker said coolly. "Look, I don't seem to be getting the benefit of the doubt here, but trust me, if we don't deal with this festering sore ASAP, [_tongue licks corner of mouth_] Penguin won't be able to fork over a dollar to dry clean his tuxes; Bushido won't be able to cough up a quarter for kitty kibbles; and little, uh, Darius is it, won't even have a nickel, for his Grandma, he, he."

The room was silenced when Parker slammed his fists on the table. "Enough! From the clown!" He rose violently, fixing to kill the irritating jokester once and for all.

"Whoa!" The Joker stood, revealing several frag grenades hanging inside his blazer, the pins tied to strings which were tied to his finger. "Let's not BLOW, [_giggles_], things out of proportion."

All people in the room started to back away except for Darius, who was fuming. "You think you can steal from us, and just walk away?"

"Yep, [_tongue licks corner of mouth_]," deadpanned the Joker in all seriousness.

"I'm putting the word out. Five hundred grand for this clown dead; a million alive, so I can teach him some manners first!"

"Ok [_tongue licks corner of mouth_], looks like Mr. Parker's position is clear. For the rest of you, here's my card," he set a single playing card on the table. "Call me when you decide to take things a bit more seriously." He slowly backed out, giggling and tugging at the strings before fleeing out the back door.

While everyone began chatting amongst themselves, Penguin waddled over to the table and picked up the card. He would be making the call very soon.

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"Boss," that guy from earlier is here."

The Joker looked up from his paper on the failed raid. 'Just wait you fools; you were warned.' "Excellent, [_tongue licks corner of mouth_] send him in [_giggling_]."

Garret Perle, one of the Jokers latest recruits straight out of Arkham, grinned and returned with a squat figure with a bag covering his head. Perle removed the hood to reveal Penguin himself, who reached into his pocket and recovered his monocle, arranging it on his right eye.

"Ah, my monocled friend. Welcome, welcome! [_giggling_] What can I do for you this fine evening." He pulled up a chair and sat on it backwards, arms crossed over the back.

The Penguin cleared his throat. This was the moment; the moment he, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot began his journey to claim his rightful place in the sun. "Mr. Joker, if I may call you that?" At the Joker's nod, Penguin continued. "Mr. Joker, unlike my employers, who see you as a freak like me, useful but who always must be kept at a distance, I share your unconventional motives."

"Oh?"

"Yes, and that is why I have a proposition for you."

The Joker grinned widely, for his plan was coming to fruition. "I'm listening."

**A/N: That was a fun chapter to write! I had the kitchen scene in my head since February. **

**Quick recap: Olivia is having an emotional rollercoaster. Elliot is pissed. The mob is desperate. Penguin is scheming. And the Joker is, well, the Joker.**

**Remember, I'm dropping little hints concerning the Joker. Read into the lines closely.**

**It was fun writing the Gang of Seven, interspersing the Batman villains with the SVU villains. What did you think?**

**Next up: "Why so serious?"**

**Please Review. **


	6. Chapter 6: Why So Serious?

**A/N: Hello all. **

**So where we left off, the Joker has delivered his proposal, and then he and Penguin decided to cook something up. Also, Elliot is pissed that the raid failed, and Liv decided to bring Bruce in on the situation.**

**Here, plans are made, Liv and Bruce get new suits, Alfred has a heart to heart with his ward, and the most iconic line of the move is said **

**Just as a note, Darius Parker is the same as in the episodes Venom and Screwed, only now he's a mafia kingpin. The details of his trial are the same, minus the connection to Fin and the specific misconduct of Olivia and Elliot. In here, Briscoe screwed up the confession and had some skeletons in his closet regarding his earlier alcoholism; Fin's fuckups were the same.**

**Disclaimer: Have a newly married Benson and Stabler tag teamed the Joker in an interrogation room. If not, the n I do not own either.**

**Please review.**

Chapter 6: Why so Serious?

Running his hands through his straight, blonde hair, Harvey Dent was beyond pissed. Thinking he was going to spend the night planning arraignments for the Gang of Seven on money laundering charges, Lt. Benson had informed him that the money, as well as Lau Qian, had disappeared. Normally a calm, cheerful man, his usual serene features were contorted in anger and frustration. Standing on the roof of the 1-6 MCU precinct, the unofficial yet notorious floodlight switched on, he had no idea what the next step was but had a feeling as to how it was going to get done.

Behind him, Harvey heard the fleetest of sounds. "You're a hard pair to find," he quipped, turning around to see Batman and Batgirl walking over from the ledge. 'So the rumors are true,' he thought. 'They can approach with the silence of a bat.' He made a vow to never get on their bad side.

Before Harvey could say anything, Elliot burst through the doorway, gun in hand. "Where's your partner Stabler?" asked Bruce, though knowing the answer.

"She's at home getting reacquainted with the Jurgens case. Jesus Dent, you could warn me before you turn that thing on." He stomped over to the floodlight and switched it off. 'This isn't good,' thought Olivia. If she knew Elliot, which she did, this was going to become a great dick measuring match between him and the DA, and those usually got ugly.

"Really Stabler, cause you should return the favor. Lau's already in Chinese airspace right now. If you had informed me, I could have taken his passport or had him arrested. I told you to keep me in the loop!"

"Don't you get all high and mighty with me Dent," yelled Elliot. "All that was left in the vaults were marked bills; Lau and the Gang of Seven knew we were coming! As soon as you and the DA's office got involved…"

"My office? You are seriously bashing my skull over this, when you won't even let your cops get cleared through rigorous channels? This is what happens when you spend your days supervising possible dirty cops, or how else did Darius Parker get off!" Olivia watched Elliot's contort in rage; most would back off but Harvey, kudos to him, wasn't backing down. "Yeh that's right Stabler; I almost had that asshole cold on the murder before your buddies Briscoe and Tutuola screwed up the case with a tainted confession and past evidence of police misconduct. If you and Benson could get your heads out of your asses…"

"Don't drag my partner in the mud to try and cloud the fact that clearly Velez and Connors have men in your office Dent!"

'Ok, now this is getting out of hand.' Elliot was proud of how he handled his unit, which was like his second family (as it was for Olivia). She decided it was time to step in. "Enough!" she growled forcefully. Elliot and Harvey stepped apart, slightly intimidated, while Bruce looked at her with a twinkle in his eye, slightly amused. "Look, if you two are done marking your territory like a pair of rutting deer, we have a situation here!"

Shaking his head with a nervous smirk on his face, Harvey again ran his hand through his hair. "We need Lau back; through all the security and firewalls that Penguin set up for Maroni and the rest of them, their resident Chinese banker is the weak link in the chain. However, the Chinese won't extradite one of their own under any circumstances, especially not to us."

"If we can get him for you," asked Bruce, "Can you get him to talk?"

"I'll get him to sing, roll over, and do somersaults."

"Look everyone," added Elliot, calming down from his earlier rant. "We're going after the Gang of Seven's life savings here. With Penguin running the show, this is going to get ugly."

"I knew the risks when I ran for this office Stabler. I can take what that waddling homunculus can dish out. So how will you two be bringing him…" He turned his head to talk to Batman and Batgirl, but was met with empty space.

"They do that," deadpanned Elliot.

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"Mr. Fox."

Lucius Fox looked up from the reports on the new Joint Strike Fighter project; the proposed F-35 Lightning II would create a stealth strike fighter for the United States and its allies, but the addition of the Wayne Enterprises advanced engine alloys would increase both its speed and durability during combat. While he would have loved to pour over what modifications he could make, he needed to answer his secretary. "Yes Lucy; what is it?" A true gentleman, he made sure to treat every employee with respect and dignity.

"You have two visitors here to see you."

"Send them in." His eyebrows raised when they walked inside his office. "Oh no. This can't end well no matter what the circumstances."

"What's the matter Lucius?" said Bruce with a wide grin. "Not happy to see me?"

"Well under most circumstances I am, but when you have Lt. Benson with you the issues discussed end up taking long detours into the bizarre." Olivia couldn't help but laugh; she had liked Lucius Fox from the beginning, and was glad he ran Bruce's company.

"So Mr. Fox," asked Olivia, "How did Lau take it when you told him you were going with Lockheed Martin and BAE?"

"You sure we can talk about trade secrets with her here Mr. Wayne?"

While Olivia looked a bit insulted, Bruce chuckled, "Well she is a shareholder Mr. Fox, as is reflected in the official documents."

"I know; my apologies Lt. Benson, but when the board asks me what I was doing, I can honestly say now I was meeting with the boss and a shareholder. Always pays to dot the Is and cross the Ts doesn't' it?"

'Man this guy is smart,' thought Liv. "Yes it does. Now about my question."

Rising from his desk, Fox strolled over to the large bookcase on the other side of the immense office. "Well, my friends at Lockheed and our British allies are ecstatic that we accepted the JSF deal, but I wasn't able to tell our Chinese friends though. They skipped town before I could, quite hurriedly I might add."

"Well Lucius," said Bruce as the older man opened a secret elevator built into the bookcase. "I've always known how much you would like to visit Hong Kong. I hear it's lovely this time of year."

Furrowing his brows, Fox stepped into the elevator. "What's wrong with a phone call?"

"I think Mr. Lau deserves a more, personal touch."

"Does this have to do with why Mr. Lau left in such a hurry?"

"Sorry Mr. Fox," interjected Olivia. "We can't comment on any current investigations, as per department policy." Both she and Bruce smirked as the doors closed.

About one minute later, the elevator came to a halt, the door opening with a stereotypical ding. The underground storage center underneath the New Wayne Tower was the new and improved location of Fox's old Applied Sciences Division, and where he designed his boss' toys. "High altitude jumps huh? For that, all you'd need is pressurized oxygen, proper insulation, and a good parachute."

"That's it?"

"Well Mr. Wayne, compared to your usual requests, jumping out of a plane is rather straightforward."

"What about getting back into a plane?" asked Olivia innocently.

"That's a job for a travel agent Lieutenant."

Olivia gave him a mischievous grin. "Without the plane landing." Bruce suppressed a chuckle; it felt nice not being on the receiving end of a mischievous Liv.

Fox shook his head, smiling widely. "Now that's more like it Miss Benson. Granted, getting picked up by an airborne plane isn't as straight forward as jumping out of one, but there have been several methods tried out. The CIA had a program called Skyhook, designed for getting agents and downed pilots out of hostile zones."

'Great, the CIA; Munch will never let me live it down,' though Olivia to herself. Sometimes she couldn't believe what she had gotten herself into.

"So Lucius, what does that entail?" asked Bruce, who was thinking along similar lines as his partner.

"Basically, you pack a lighter than air gas, which upon release floats up into the air attached to a hook and a beacon. The plane, also equipped with a hook, zeroes in on the beacon, and snags the entire kit and caboodle, taking you up. It wouldn't be too complicated to add an extra harness for an additional pilot though," he said with a wink.

"Sounds interesting, wouldn't you say so Liv?"

"Interesting isn't the right word to describe it Bruce." 'Fucking crazy on the other hand…'

Bruce, seeing her thought through her eyes, smirked. She was so cute when she did that. 'Huh? Where did that come from?' He shrugged and noticed Fox motioning them over to a large cabinet.

"The new suits you ordered came in."

"New suits Bruce? Well as they say, a lady never has enough things to wear."

"My wife says the same thing," said Fox, opening the cabinet. "Now, these are brand new and state of the art. Instead of one large woven vest, this model is comprised of several interconnecting Kevlar plates, reinforced and connected with titanium-dipped tri-weave fibers. They'll fit over you like a thick, second skin rather than and armored carapace; fast, light, and far more agile."

Inspecting his new forearm plate, Bruce accidently touched something that made the gripping hooks shoot out, sticking to the metal filing cabinet ten yards away. The mischievous look returning to her eyes, Olivia, busy fitting on her new glove, looked at Fox. "I think Bruce should get a copy of the manual," she quipped, getting that adorable glare on his face (she wasn't even trying to fight it anymore).

"I suppose so." Fox was staying out of it, for he couldn't escape the fact he was alone in a room with two people who could beat him to a pulp with minimal effort. "Now, about you're glove…" Flexing her fingers, a small dart shot out, impacting a light fixture above. Several blue-hot bolts of electricity appeared, causing the fluorescent light to shatter. Olivia took off the glove, trying to appear as small as possible, especially with Bruce's self-satisfied smirk. "I'll be sure to print off two copies," said Fox in a serious voice, only making Bruce's smirk wider.

"What were you saying Mr. Fox," mumbled Olivia, knowing she had been humiliated as much as Bruce had and hating it.

"As you just demonstrated, I reconfigured the stun system on your suit. Instead of one charge every hour, your arm now has five darts that contain enough electrical charge to paralyze an enemy for thirty to ninety seconds, or short circuit basic electrical systems apparently."

Olivia looked at the glove with a new respect, satisfied that it was all hers. 'Boy, this would have been helpful on the street.'

"Now back to the suit. There are some tradeoff. The separation of the plates makes you more vulnerable to stabbing knives, thrusting knives, and well-aimed gunfire."

"Now we don't want to make things too easy for them do we Bruce?"

"Now what fun would that be? How would it stand up against dogs?" Olivia's head jerked up. 'He did not just ask that,' she thought with a laugh.

"Are we talking about Rottweilers, or Chihuahuas?" Bruce shrugged while Olivia laughed. "Should handle cats well enough."

"You hear that Bruce; let's pay Bushido a visit!"

"Sometimes you disturb me Lieutenant Benson."

"Oh bah! You love it!"

"You're right, I do," he said without thinking. After seeing Olivia's eyes widen, a blush forming on her cheeks, Bruce realized what he said and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Noticing their behavior, Fox raised an eyebrow. He wasn't stupid, far from it. He knew from the beginning that these two had chemistry (even if they didn't know it yet), but it wasn't his place to interfere. "Now, while it's a great pleasure to live vicariously through you two, even meetings with shareholders don't take this long."

Bruce and Olivia both smiled at him, thankful for breaking the awkward moment.

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Later that night, Alfred began mixing a pot of tea for his two wards in the bowels of the temporary Batcave. Olivia hadn't yet arrived from the station, so Bruce was working out to keep busy. Looking at the boy he had raised since childhood doing a set of a hundred pushups, Alfred sighed. He was worried about his ward, and about Olivia as well. Both of them had grown up practically alone, Bruce due to losing his parents (Alfred knew that he couldn't replace them no matter how hard he tired), and Olivia by virtue of having an abusive old witch as a mother. It hurt him to see how much they suffered in silence. The only people they seemed to open up to was each other, but there were certain things that they didn't dare breach. Alfred however, wasn't stupid; he didn't want to interfere in the lives of the two people he saw as his children (his philosophy was that people had to go through emotional epiphanies on their own in order for it to mean something), but there was nothing wrong with doing a little probing now was there?

"Master Wayne," he called out, earning a grunt of acknowledgement. "Do you think that driving yourself to the point of exhaustion is the best idea whilst waiting for Miss Olivia?"

"Well Alfred," groaned Bruce. "Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one-hundred! Ahhh!" He sprang up, grabbing a half empty bottle of water and downing it. "When I'm out in the field with Liv, she'd want me to be in the best of shape. She worries you know."

"I do sir, as do I. You realize that I'm here whenever you need to get something off your chest?"

"Of course Alfred, but there's no need. I'm fine."

Deciding to probe a little further, Alfred raised his voice a bit. "You're not fine Master Bruce, so don't kid yourself. The person I know you are is seen less and less, replaced by your playboy and Batman personas. You are isolating yourself from those who love you, and I want to know why."

"What can I tell you Alfred? I'm tired of it all alright."

"You don't want to continue with the Batman? Is that what you're saying?"

"It's not that Alfred," sighed Bruce, not believing he was having the conversation he always dreaded, but at the same time feeling glad to finally getting it off his chest. "It's just that I feel isolated from the world. That what I've become has denied me happiness."

"You're talking about Miss Alex aren't you?" When Bruce gazed at the floor, not answering, Alfred knew he had hit a nerve. "Well what's stopping you then? All's fair in love and war Master Bruce; she's not married to this Dent fellow; if you truly want her, go and get her."

"It's not that simple Alfred," whispered Bruce, plopping down in his chair. "She wants to be with me, but can't unless I give up the mask, and I can't do that yet, not now. Maybe soon, but not now."

"If that's the case, why feel so glum? If you can be together soon, there's no reason to feel this depressed. Get Lau back, let Dent put away the criminals, and the White Knight takes over. Unless, do you think that Miss Alex does realize this? Maybe you can't let yourself be happy, because you realize that you can't change back for her."

"No," Bruce shook his head vehemently. "That's not true."

"Do you want to be with Miss Alex because you love her, or are you trying to recover something deep inside yourself that you lost?"

"No Alfred, I love Alex and she loves me."

"Then why is she with Harvey Dent? Don't get me wrong, I care for her deeply, but look what this is doing to you. You should pick someone out of love Master Bruce, not to replace something you wish you had. It's not fair to them and it's not fair to yourself."

"No Alfred. I love her, and I will wait for her. You and Liv will be enough until the day the world no longer needs Batman."

Alfred could have ended it there, and he knew that he should, but he vowed long ago to take care of this boy till the day he died, and that he would do. "You said Miss Olivia's name as well as my own Master Bruce."

A small smile crept onto Bruce's face at the mention of Olivia's name, not unnoticed by Alfred. "Yes, so what? She's my partner and best friend."

"Could there be something more there besides friendship Master Bruce?"

A look of shock crossed his ward's face. "What? No, absolutely not! Liv? No Alfred, she's my friend and nothing else. Besides, even if I did have feelings for her, and that's a big if," Alfred wasn't believing Bruce's denials at all, "I don't deserve her."

"What are you talking about Master Bruce? Don't sell yourself short."

"No, she needs someone that she deserves. Once this is blown over I'll try to help her in that department, but I do not have feelings for Liv, period. I love Alex."

To Alfred, it sounded like his ward was subconsciously trying to believe that himself, but it was his own path to forge. All he could do was advise and console him. "Alright Master Bruce, but I can't stand to see you this way. If you love Miss Alex, talk to her. See if your plan for the future is mutual. I just want to see you happy again."

"HEY GUYS!" called a female voice.

'Thank you Liv,' thought Bruce, thankful that his friend ended the conversation. "You're a little late."

"Well Mr. Timecop, I'm not the one who gets up at two PM every morning, so don't complain." Alfred couldn't help but smirk. He was certain there were feelings there, and that Miss Olivia reciprocated them. However, she was just as stubborn as he was, so only they could convince themselves to come clean to the other. "So, what's the plan?"

"Right," Alfred was snapped back into the real world. He took a large schematic and laid it on the workbench, "I found a nice man in Arizona who could refurbish one C-130 Hercules transport and a medium-size seaplane, all under the radar so to speak."

"Ok, that takes care of the planes," said Olivia," What about the crews?"

"South Korean smugglers," interjected Bruce. "They fly clandestine flights into Pyongyang, below radar the entire way. Now, about our alibies…"

"Mine is taken care of, just make sure the aircraft arrives at the scouted location on Luzon."

"Of course, now about mine; Alfred, you have any suggestions?"

Alfred grinned. "Oh yes."

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About one week later, Harvey Dent escorted Alex down City Ave, the Broadway of Gotham, to the Metropolitan Theatre to see the Russian Ballet.

"Sorry sir," said an usher, stopping a line of ticketholders. "Refund lines are inside; one at a time people."

"What's going on?" asked Harvey.

"Here ya' go," said the smirking usher, handing over a cop of the _Ledger_. Shaking her head, Alex glanced at the headline.

**Billionaire takes Russian Ballet to South China Sea in private Yacht.**

"Bruce," she muttered under her breath. 'You and Liv are up to something. I can feel it.'

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Pulling back his right arm, Darius Parker pushed forward slightly, the tip of the cue colliding with the white ball. The ball rolled into the eight ball, sinking it in the right corner hole. "Yes," he grunted. There was no one better at billiards than himself; back in the old days, when it was just him and his cousin Kenny, they had won quite a bit of money hustling pool. Remembering Kenny made his gut twist into a knot. His hand curling into a tight fist, he slammed it against the table. He'd get that fucking loon of a clown if it was the last thing he'd do.

"Sir, you have a visitor," called out his prized Lieutenant, not one to usually bullshit him.

Darius gave him a menacing glare. "Didn't I tell you I don't want to be disturbed?"

"I'm afraid we couldn't turn away this one sir." He backed up, trying to blend in with the furniture when Penguin waddled in, humming a jaunty tune and twirling his umbrella/cane.

"Good evening Darius," squawked the Underboss, "It's always a pleasure to see you."

Seeing through the infernal pest's BS, Darius practically simmered. "The feeling is not mutual bird! Now what do I owe the torture of your visit?"

"Come now Darius, can't a fellow brother in crime stop by for a friendly chat now and again, waugh, waugh, waugh?"

Not able to halt the laugh emanating out of his belly, Darius bent over on the table to keep from falling over. "Brother in crime? Let's you and me get something straight Penguin, you are nothing like me. You think that because Sal trusts you to do his dirty work that it makes you one of us? There is no way you can be one of us. We are the giants in the underworld, while you are just a tiny, tiny, tiny insignificant piece of shit in a tuxedo and a top hat. We will never be friends, so what is the real purpose of this visit?"

Sighing, Penguin removed a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his monocle. "Very well Darius, I just came over to talk you out of this beef you have with the Joker."

Darius stared at him, truly stunned. "You want me to call off the bounty I have for his head?"

"In lament's terms, yes."

"If you think I'd do that, you're as crazy as he is. That motherfucker is going to pay and pay big."

"Don't do this Darius; when Lau's plan fails, and yes it will fail, we have to have alternate options. This Joker might be our only hope."

"Nope, I'm not changing my mind. Asshole is going to die, end of story."

"Don't be arrogant Darius. The Joker means business. Who knows, he might get to you first." Darius scoffed, as if that were going to happen. He was Darius Parker after all, Duke of Gotham and the man who beat the most convincing murder rap in the city's history (USA Today had dubbed him the East Coast OJ).

Just then, his Lieutenant and two of his musclemen walked in the room, all with smiles on their faces. "Can't you see I'm with a guest?" Darius growled. Much as he didn't want Penguin around, he was too important to ignore.

"I'm sorry boss, but there are three young men outside. They say they've just killed the Joker, and they've brought the body for you."

"Well, bring them in!" Grinning, Darius turned to Penguin. "Kill me my ass."

The squat man only shuffled his feet. "Pride goeth before the fall my friend."

Two other guards shambled in, hefting a large trashbag between them. Following was a motley crew of young men, common street thugs most likely. 'What was Penguin thinking? If these fools could kill the Joker, how much of a threat was he really?' Setting the bag on the pool table, Darius pulled back the front to reveal the Joker, face passive in death. His lips curved in a predatory smile). "Ok; dead, that's five hundred."

All of a sudden, the Joker rose, spinning Darius around and bringing a knife to his lips. "How 'bout alive?" he said, a smirk on his painted lips. The hoodlums had overpowered the Lieutenant ant two of the guards, forcing them on their knees with hidden pistols.

Seeing that he had been outsmarted, Darius' gaze turned to Penguin, who was flanked by the two remaining guards. "Penguin," he croaked. "Help."

The other man chuckled, absentmindedly twirling his cane. "How can I possibly do that Darius? After all, as you said I'm a tiny, tiny, tiny piece of shit in a tuxedo and a top hat." The fool really was a coward, and his people had no concept of loyalty, thought Penguin. After all, they had greedily become turncoats and let in the Joker's men without a proper search after he personally bribed them. His reputation was far greater in the lower levels of the Gang of Seven, and money always talked.

Then again, it was best if there were no loose ends. With reflexes that no one would expect from a man of his looks and complexion, he kicked the first guard right on the calf. When he dropped to his knees, howling in pain, Penguin snapped his neck with minimal effort. The other bribed guard turned to face the man who double crossed him, but Penguin casually stabbed him with his umbrella, now sporting a six inch serrated blade at the tip. The guard grunted and then fell over dead. Chuckling, penguin removed his handkerchief and wiped off the blood, whistling.

"Say what you want about Penguin," remarked the Joker, still holding a knife to Darius's mouth, "But he's got style [_licks side of mouth_]. So," his vice dropped to a menacing whisper. "Any last words Mr. Parker?"

Bravado leaching out of his system, confronted with impending death for the first time in his life, Darius wilted, "Please don't kill me. I don't want to die. I'll do anything. ANYTHING!"

"Wow [_giggles_], I never thought the great Darius Parker would be such a coward underneath." The Joker's men laughed at the toppled mob boss.

"I could have told you that, waugh, waugh, waugh," said Penguin, enjoying every second of this. He was glad that Darius was the first to go, for out of all the Seven, he hated the abrasive hothead the most.

Smirking, the Joker stared Darius in the eye. "You what to know how I got these scars? My father was a drinker – [_licks side of mouth_] – and a fiend." The Joker's voice was a low growl, making even Penguin cringe. "One night, he comes home from the steel mill, steamier than usual. Mommy grabs the kitchen knife to defend herself, now he doesn't like that. Not… one… bit. Now, with me watching [_licks side of mouth_] he goes to work on her laughing while he flicks the knife and works the blowtorch. Hearing my cries, he turns to me, and a sick smile forms on his lips. He turns to me and says 'WHY SO SERIOUS-AH?' He comes at me, putting the blowtorch to the skin of my chin," the Joker points to his burn scar. "'WHY SO SERIOUS-AH?' He sticks the blade in my mouth. 'LET'S PUT A SMILE ON THAT FACE.' Aaaannnnddd…" He looks at the Lieutenant, who looked as if he would piss himself. "Why so serious?" He then slit Darius' throat, spattering blood all over the trashbag still on his suit.

"I believe it's my time to leave. Pleasure doing business with you, waugh, waugh, waugh." Penguin left with a large grin plastered on his face. 'One down, six to go.'

Stripping off the blood-spattered garbage bag, the Joker patted down his suit. "Now gentlemen," he opined, addressing Darius' subdued guards. "Our operation is tight knit and small." The Joker's men began nodding menacingly. "But, I see plenty of new markets becoming available in the near future. As the laws of free market economics dictate, when demand goes up, so does supply. So, I think it's time for aggressive expansion! So which of you fine gentlemen would like to join our team?" He grabs the cuestick and snaps it in two, forming a two-foot long stake. "Oh, by the way [_licks side of mouth_], there's only one spot open, so we're going to have tryouts!" He throws the stake in the middle of the men. "May the best man win [_giggles_]."

**A/N: Whew! What a ride!**

**Loved writing the Joker; plus, adding the Penguin allows for an explanation as to how the Joker's men managed to sneak their guns in. Used it to show how kick-ass he is too.**

**So Alfred (Fox too), have their suspicions, but you know our two heroes. It'll be a long time before they have any epiphany [insert evil laugh].**

**Next up, a trip to China.**

**Please Review!**


	7. Chapter 7: Chinese Anyone?

**A/N: What's up? Enormous increase I traffic for the last chapter. Two days and over thirty visitors, I'm humbled.**

**Here, there's a visit to the People's Republic of China. Not much action here, but all of this is crucial to the storyline. Everything will start to heat up in the next chapter, though I'll include a little Joker scene to tide all of you till then **

**Disclaimer: If Mariska Hargitay didn't get the Oscar for Best Actress for her role as Olivia Benson in the blockbuster hit **_**The Dark Knights**_**, then I don't own either. **

**Please Review!**

Chapter 7: Chinese Anyone?

Strolling out of the 747, Olivia marveled at how much had changed over three years. Before, she couldn't fly without crushing the armrest at every little bump or jolt, and now she could sleep through the entire flight without the need for a sleeping pill. 'Well, Liv, three years ago you didn't think you could jump off rooftops, fire at criminals with an armored assault vehicle, or fall in love with your best friend,' no scratch that. She had always been in love with Bruce, it had just taken quite a long time, 32 years, to realize it.

Olivia shook her head. 'Focus on the mission Benson!' The official plan was simple, fly into Manila, stay in a hotel for two days waiting for Porter to arrive, pick up Mike Jurgens from the Manila Police Department's HQ, head back to Gotham with the rapist, and get justice for the victims. The unofficial plan however, was far less simple. Leave it to Bruce to plan the most ridiculous stunts, though there wasn't much else that was possible. The thought of him on his yacht for a week with a whole boatload of Russian beauties made her blood boil with jealousy (Olivia knew that she couldn't compare with them, or Alex; her mother's constant belittlings had instilled in her the realization that she wasn't at all special). At least she could take comfort that Alfred would be there, however much that helped.

Ninoy Aquino International Airport was located in the southern region of the bustling capitol city, less than a mile from Manila Bay. Stepping outside onto the arrivals deck, a cool sea breeze wafted in, blowing and messing up her slicked up red hair (a new style she was trying out). Sighing as she blew a wayward strand out of her eye, Olivia hailed a cab, driven by a balding, wiry man with thick glasses.

"Where to miss?" he asked in Spanish, the colonial language of the islands.

"To the Negros Navigation Ferry Terminal, North Harbor _por favor_," she repeated in the same language. With all the Latin immigrants in Gotham and dealing with Velez's Colombian thugs, speaking Spanish was a useful skill for a detective.

"Ah, an American," said the cab driver in English, also common from the colonial period.

Smiling weakly, Olivia nodded. "Is it that obvious?"

"No, your Spanish is good, but you clearly have the air of someone from the United States." He chuckled a bit and entered the cab, Olivia entering the backseat. "So where are you from, New York?"

"Gotham City actually," replied Olivia with all honesty.

"Hmmm," said the driver, rubbing his chin as he pulled the cab onto the main coastal road. "I have always wanted to visit America's Greatest City, but it is too dangerous for me. Too many thugs and criminals for my taste."

"So our reputation precedes us," she said a little sadly, hating the fact that her home city was so well known as a den of crime rather than the vibrant, cultural metropolis that it should be.

"I'm afraid so, but who knows? That Batman and Batgirl might just clean up everything over there."

Raising an eyebrow, Olivia inquired further. "You know of the Batman and Batgirl?"

The man laughed as if it were a ridiculous question. "Of course, they are quite popular in the Philippines. You should see the Japanese comic strip they have of them; it's a hit with both kids and adults alike." Olivia couldn't help but smile at that, she never intended to be an international celebrity, but she was, even if the world didn't know it.

The rest of the morning went according to plan. Calling in the hotel to say she was going on a sightseeing hike for today and tomorrow, Olivia hopped on a ferry for the Bataan Peninsula, enjoying the calming swells of Manila Bay. Arriving at the dock, she hopped a ride on a friendly farmer's truck, knowing it would be best to blend in with the locals from here on out.

After traveling about five miles from the harbor, she signaled the farmer to stop. Handing him a fifty dollar bill in gratitude, Olivia, clad in a T-shirt and knee-cut jeans, hitched her waterproof duffel bag and began the trek westward in the jungle. The humidity was overwhelming, the air filled with buzzing insects that made her skin crawl. 'Focus Benson, you made it through worse fog than this against League of Shadows warriors fifty times more annoying as these pesky bugs.' Ignoring the distractions, she trudged forward.

Devoid of human habitation, Quinawon Beach still retained its natural beauty. Walking to the edge, Olivia noticed almost immediately her ride, the Grumman HU-16 Albatross seaplane waiting patiently ten yards offshore. "Their early, or maybe I'm late…" Olivia said out loud. Figuring it didn't matter, she threw the duffel into the water, watching it as it splashed. Bringing her hands together in the classic diving pose, she took a deep breath and plunged into the warm waters of the South China Sea. Resurfacing, she grabbed the duffel and kicked out for the Albatross, hoping Bruce packed her a set of spare clothes like he was supposed to. Knowing him, he would have left a parka and snow mitts to mess with her.

'And yet I love him anyway.'

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Spread out shirtless on a deck chair reading a five-day old copy of the _Gotham City Ledger_, Bruce grabbed the glass of ice tea on the end table and took a sip. Fifteen feet away, three blonde Russians in skimpy bikinis waved at him, giggling suggestively. He smiled; sure he wanted to marry Alex and settle down, but at times like these why not enjoy the life he had.

"Reveling in your scandalizing the high-society of Gotham Master Wayne?" Bruce looked up to see Alfred in a white button-down and a pair of Bermuda shorts, looking completely un-Alfred like. He turned over the paper to see the headline about his, let's just say, classic Wayne departure. "Don't worry Alfred, they love me anyway, despite my eccentricities." His butler rolled his eyes, causing Bruce to chuckle. "I wonder what the look on Alex's face was when she saw this."

"Not an expression I would like to face I'm afraid Master Bruce. I've had enough run-ins with what they in the Gotham Constabulary call 'The Badass Benson' for one lifetime." The thought of Olivia made a smile creep on Bruce's face, not unnoticed by Alfred. 'Oh Master Bruce,' he sighed mentally. The moment was interrupted by the whine of piston engines, all heads turning to the port side. The Albatross swept in low, kicking up a large cloud of sea spray as it hit the water. "Speaking of Miss Olivia sir, I believe that's your plane!" he called over the whine.

Nodding, Bruce rose, grabbing a waterproof haversack nestled alongside the chair. "You look tired Alfred. Unwind, enjoy yourself for once."

Looking back at the rear deck, several of the Russian ballerinas waved to him, pointing to their backs. "If you are going to leave me alone with them, at least tell me the Russian words for apply your own bloody suntan lotion."

Grinning, Bruce chucked the haversack into the sea and dove in, resurfacing after a few seconds. Turning his gaze back to the stern, Alfred notice a tall, leggy blonde exit the main cabin, smiling and winking at him. "On the other hand Master Bruce, maybe I will enjoy this vacation," he murmured with a wide smile.

Gliding through the water with the grace of an Olympic swimmer, Bruce reached the Albatross in no time. Grabbing the aluminum handles, he hauled himself up, only to almost fall in again.

Olivia laughed at his clumsiness. "Need a hand there Bruce?" she stammered, trying to control her giggles.

"I don't need your help Liv," muttered Bruce, his face red.

"You say that, and yet who is it that keeps bailing your ass out of trouble time and time again?"

"It's not time and time again."

"Yes it is; remember the baby smuggling ring, where you almost got blown up with that witness? How about that pedophile ring that managed to possess a minigun? Need I forget about the like ten ambushes Penguin has set up over the years for us?"

"Point taken Liv, it's just," he motioned to her outfit. "I didn't expect you to wear this."

She couldn't help but smirk, for she was wearing a halter top and short-shorts. "Well Bruce, this is what you packed for me," she said coyly, trying to not ogle him in his shirtless form. If she didn't know what he did, she would have sworn he lived at the gym.

"Yeh Liv, I packed it for you, but I never thought you would actually wear it!" He was blushing, 'Since when do you blush Bruce?' "Your usual outfits are always so, grrrrr!"

"Oh shut up," Olivia groaned, throwing a thermos at him. Here she was, thinking he might reciprocate her feelings, or at least her attraction, but then he goes back to their normal, razzing nature. "Get in your seat, we'll be over Chinese airspace soon."

"Alright mom," he droned, relieved that the awkward moment was over. He was not going to have those feelings again, Bruce told himself. He would take Alfred's advice and talk to Alex when he got home. She loved him and he couldn't destroy that, and Olivia did deserve someone better. Not once did he think of his loving Alex as a reason (A/N: _bear with me; we still have to have him come full circle; also, don't think Alex as bad in the love-triangle, just cautioning_).

Two hours later, the low flying Albatross was passing over Tai Tam Country Park, a large wilderness preserve at the south end of Hong Kong Island. "Ready?" asked the pilot, a squat, wrinkly Korean who looked to have earned his pilot's stripes flying against the Korean People's Army during the Korean War.

"Damn right!" hooted Olivia. Bruce just gave the pilot a thumbs up.

"Ok… Go! Go! Go!"

Leaping five seconds after the other, Bruce and Olivia immediately felt their all-black parachutes deploying almost immediately. They were followed by a titanium case, containing their suits. Flying below radar level, the drop took only twenty seconds, both landing with a thud near a dirt track.

"You ok Liv?"

"Yes Bruce, I'm fine," she replied, stretching out the knots in her back.

"Helrow?" asked a voice in mushy, Chinese-accented English. A skinny man ran up to them with a flashlight. "Christian and Mariska Bale?" (A/N: _Wink _;)

"Yes, that's us," replied Bruce, who had chosen those names for their cover. As far as the world knew, Bruce Wayne was on a yacht in the South China Sea and Olivia Benson was hiking in the Bataan Peninsula. It made him chuckle that they were posing as a married couple; it felt a little right too, and that was a bit weird. He wondered if Olivia felt it too

The man extended his hand. "Welcome to Hong Kong. My name Benny, and I take good care of you."

"That's good, cause Benny, we're starving," blurted Olivia, completely serious.

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"So Mr. Rajesh, who is this guy again?"

The middle-aged shopkeeper pointed outside. "Guy comes by sometimes," he said in a thick Indian accent, "He filthy, always rooting through my garbage. I go outside, wave my shotgun, tell him to get lost. He looks at me with wild eyes, yelling something about mind control and secret agent. What secret agent, I have business to run."

"Don't worry sir, we'll take care of it." Garret Perle gave the bodega owner a reassuring smile before walking out. A smug smirk began to form on his face as he fondled the fake detective's badge in his jacket pocket. 'God that was too easy. These idiots will believe anything.' The jury two years ago sure did, sending him to Arkham Asylum for treatment rather than to jail where he knew he belonged. He should know, he ran that whore down purposefully with his car. Perle wished he had gotten off completely, but you had to take the best option available. It wasn't as if his stint in the nuthouse hadn't paid off; being put in with the looney toons and crazies for so long taught him about how they thought, about how to relate to them. That was the main reason his new employer hired him, and if there was one thing Garret Perle loved more than the thrill of taking a human life, it was his new job (which promised more of the former).

The man he was after wasn't hard to find. Being a nut, as were a large plurality of Gotham City's homeless, he didn't have much sense to stay away from his comfort zone. Rooting through a dumpster behind a delicatessen, Perle strode up to him. "Kevin Walker."

The man's head shot up, eyes wide and filled with paranoia. "Keshisti! Keshisti!" 'My sources were right. He's perfect.'

"Calm down Kevin, I'm here to help you get back at the Keshistis." A bribed guard from Arkham had eagerly forked over many files of recently released inmates, a virtual schmorgas board of potential employees for Perle's employer. Garret had already snagged nearly a dozen new workers for the organization, and he was determined to make Kevin Walker his next recruit.

"How do you know my name if you're not one of them?" asked Walker, speaking as if he were on fast-forward.

"My boss, his specialty is hunting them, for you see, they hurt him as much as they did you. Do you want to get your son back?"

"Tate, need to get him back." His neck twitched as he glanced around in panic. "They have him, must die!"

"Come with me. My boss will help you." He put an arm over Walker's back and guided him away from the alley.

Reaching the basement of a run-down tenement, Garret steered his new quarry into the main room, filled with a collection of schizophrenics and psychos, all edgy and clutching knives and firearms. In the middle, unperturbed by the armed crazies around him sat Garret's employer, playing with a small utility knife.

"Hey boss," called Garret. "I got you another one."

Turning around with an intrigued smile on his lips, the Joker folded the knife and sauntered to the confused-looking Walker. "So, [_licks corner of mouth_] who did you get this time?"

"His name's Kevin. He wants to get his son back, but he's being held by the Keshistis."

"Sooo! Kevin, everyone thinks you're mad right?"

The man was twitching nervously, repeatedly tapping his right ear and pacing back and forth. "They want to get me! They want to break me because I know their secrets, but they won't get me; I'll fight as hard as possible but the Keshistis will never win."

"Keshistis hmmm?"

"Yes," blurted Walker, suddenly manic. "He, he, he said you were the best in, hunt, hunt, hinting them."

"You could say that! [_giggles_] People may think you're mad, [_licks corner of mouth_] but I don't. I understand that you're just misunderstood, like me. Or like these fine gentlemen here." The Joker motioned to the assembled henchmen, some bare-faced while others sported clown masks. "You seem like the right type of guy to join our little task force. The qualifications you have are perfect for the team, the right anger, the right motivation, and the right attitude. Are you ready and willing to kill some Keshistis?"

"Yes! Yes! Keshistis must die so Tate can live."

"Can you handle a gun," he giggled, throwing the man an AK-74 carbine, just one of the treasure trov of goodies that Penguin supplied him from foreign sources.

"Yes."

"Very good Kevin [_giggles_]. Very good indeed. Now let me tell you about the top Keshistis, the ones that control everything and everyone. The ones who have your son."

"Who?"

The Joker broke out into a chorus of giggles. "The Batman and Batgirl!" Unable to control himself, he started cackling, joined in by Perle and the other clown henchmen. The already had enough men for the call Penguin assured them would come, but the more the merrier.

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Since Chek Lap Nok International Airport was located far away from Hong Kong itself, LSI Holdings made sure to charter a helicopter to transport Lucius Fox to his headquarters. Looking out over the city, Fox couldn't help but admire how modern it looked. As a young graduate student back in the sixties, he had visited Beijing as part of his world travels, and the drab, dreary city that he remembered didn't look at all like the metropolitan city before him. To be fair though, he said to himself, Hong Kong spent the entirety of the twentieth century in British, not communist hands; Deng Xiaoping might have revitalized his stagnant country with the introduction of limited free enterprise, but Fox reminded himself that they were still communist at heart, no matter how they chose to display it.

Though the LSI Tower was prominently visible in the city center, the helicopter made a hard left turn, settling on the helipad of a neighboring building only a block away. Fox thoughts it was a mistake, only to have those thoughts extinguished when he saw Chien I-Hsuan, the executive vice president of LSI Holdings, waiting for him off to the side.

Exiting the chopper once the rotors were shut off, Fox gripped Chien's extended hand. "Welcome to Hong Kong Mr. Fox. Mr. Lau regrets that he is not able to meet you in person."

"Not to complain or anything, but why is it that I was taken here instead of to LSI Tower?"

"Oh that," Chien laughed. "For security reasons. Lau has powerful enemies, and who knows what might happen."

Fox nodded, gathering that with his dealings with the Gang of Seven, Lau earned the right to be paranoid. "I understand; I just hope Mr. Lau doesn't see little ol' me as a threat." He grinned, flashing his still pearly white teeth.

Chien grinned back, a seemingly cheerful and decent man considering who he worked for. "I assure you, no one here thinks of you in that way. We have a car waiting downstairs to take you to LSI Tower. We have also booked you a room at one of the finest hotels on the island, which is the least Mr. Lau can do for you."

"Your boss is very generous; I'll be sure to thank him in person."

One of the more modern buildings in the modern city, LSI Tower seemed like an Oriental version of the New Wayne Tower, an all glass and steel structure that exuded architectural greatness. This was the symbol of the new China, Fox thought, though it had been built through corruption and deceit.

"So here we are Mr. Fox," said Chien, watching happily at Fox's gazing. Since being under Earle allowed Fox to easily disguise his emotions, Chien didn't grasp how disgusted his guest truly was. "Sorry about this, but for security purposes, you have to check in your mobile. The guard here will return it for you as you leave."

"No problem," replied Fox, removing a cell phone from his pocket and handing it to the guard, who accepted it with a smile and a nod. "_Xièxie_ – thank you," said Fox to the man, who was genuinely surprised that a superior would stoop to talk to him. A veteran of the People's Liberation Army, superiors usually treated him as cannon fodder (A/N: _modern Chinese battle strategies are just that, overwhelming manpower; the reason for the population boom of the fifties, sixties, and seventies was because Mao wanted an overwhelming population advantage in case of Nuclear war, the "you can kill millions of us, but we have millions more that you can't kill" strategy_).

"Welcome to my personal suite Mr. Fox, said Lau Qian ten minutes later on the penthouse level, which had been designed as his own penthouse apartment that rivaled that of NBA players or banking executives.

Motioned toward the balcony, Fox admired the late afternoon skyline. "Such a wonderful view Mr. Lau. I am curious as to why you would build your home in the same building as you worked?"

"Well Mr. Fox, I am a simple man who believes work is one of the most important things in life. Naturally, I like to keep my business and my pleasure close by. Also, may I say that I just can't stand traffic. It gives me the most awful headaches."

Fox chuckled, for most could relate to that. "I see your point." Home to over a billion people, the People's Republic had an overcrowding problem, as one could see in the bustling streets.

A mute servant opened the glass door to the balcony, kept cool by the gentle sea breeze. "Would you like some tea Mr. Fox?"

"I would love some thank you," he replied, watching as the servant poured him a cup. "Now, on to business."

"First thing, let me just apologize for leaving Gotham in the middle of our negotiation. It was rude and I'm deeply sorry, but," he smiled awkwardly, as if trying to phrase something delicately. "This, uh, misunderstanding with the Gotham Police Department and District Attorney's Office, I couldn't let such a thing threaten my company. I'm sure a businessman with your experience and stature will understand."

"Of course Mr. Lau. This is a tough world we live in. Every little decision we make is observed and analyzed by our competitors. If we make one mistake they'll be on us like flies on honey."

"A perfect analogy to describe my predicament, and I can assure you, this matter is far from lost; I'm sure the issue will be cleared up forthwith." Fox smiled and nodded his head. Lau certainly wasn't stupid, but even he should know that Fox could read the subtext of the Chinese language. Whenever a Chinese man or women phrased a situation as not lost, or soon to be fixed, he or she really meant it was fucked up beyond all recognition, but one needed a skilled understanding of the culture to realize that. Ever since the Chinese began to emerge as a major player on the world stage, Fox made sure to learn how to read these people, lest he be tricked.

"Well, I'm sure it'll be cleared up too."

"Exactly, and now that you are here in this fine city we can resume where we left off."

"I am thankful and deeply honored at you bringing me out here in such style Mr. Lau, but…" he was interrupted by his cell phone ringing.

"We do not allow cell phones in here," cautioned Lau.

"Sorry, forgot I had it." Fox smiled sheepishly and placed the phone in his pocket. "Now about the joint investment deal, I'm afraid we have to nix it. The board and Mr. Wayne personally have decided to go with the BAE/Lockheed Martin JSF offer. We gave yours all due consideration, and it was pretty tempting, but our legal advisors recommended that we can't afford to be seen with business that may is, well, whatever your accused of being." Slightly angry, Lau began to rise, throwing his napkin on the table. "I'm sure a businessman of your experience and stature will understand."

"I believe Mr. Fox, that a simple phone call might have sufficed for this piece of information."

"I thought so too, but Mr. Wayne didn't want you to think that he was deliberately wasting your time when he took up your offer."

"Just accidently wasting it."

"That's very good Mr. Lau," laughed Fox, trying hard to sound cheerful and lighthearted "Accidently, very good. We are responsible to our shareholders Mr. Lau, and a majority of them, including Mr. Wayne, felt the JSF program was the better investment of our resources."

Lau, though he didn't look pleased, nodded begrudgingly, "Though I am saddened that you rejected your offer, I do understand about being accountable to your shareholders."

'I bet you do,' thought Fox sarcastically.

"I hope you enjoy your stay in Hong Kong."

"Thank you Mr. Lau, and the tea was heavenly."

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The business formalities out of the way, Fox left the elevator, having people he had to meet"Hey sir," called the guard to Fox, the one man of a higher class who treated him with respect. Fox looked over and saw the guard was holding a cell phone.

"Sorry," Fox took his own cell phone from his blazer pocket, flashing it at the guard. "I already have mine, thank you though." He smiled and meandered to the exit, whistling an old tune. The guard looked puzzled for a moment, for he could have sworn that the man had left a phone with him. Shrugging, he decided that it was none of his concern. 'They pay me to be an automaton, I'll be an automaton.'

Outside, Fox hailed a cab which took him to City Hall Memorial Garden, packed with wealthy residents and eager tourists. Spotting the very people he wanted to meet, he wandered over to them. "Mr. and Mrs. Bale I presume?"

Bruce and Liv, who were pretending to snap pictures, turned around and smiled at Fox, thankful that he had finally arrived. "Hello Mr. Fox," said Olivia warmly. "Just enjoying the lovely city."

"A word of friendly advice, there's a better view from the peep tram."

"I'll keep that in mind Lucius," said Bruce, his oddly pleasant attitude differing greatly from his usual moody, contemplative self. 'Maybe it's the company. No, focus Bruce, you have a fugitive to catch and Alex to talk to.' "I actually heard the best view is from the LSI Tower. What do you think Mr. Fox?"

"Well it is, but I'm afraid you can't go up there Mr. Bale, the owner is locked up good and tight." He took out his cell phone and put it in Bruce's hands.

"What's that," asked Olivia, who sported a detective's natural curiosity.

"I had the boys in R&D cook it up. It contains a special sound wave generator that can give a detailed readout of a target room or building. It can even activate other phones within the same building to give readouts."

"Impressive, so it's like sonar," remarked Bruce, while Olivia simply nodded her head in amazement. "So it's just like a, a."

"A submarine Mr. Bale, a submarine."

Liv smacked Bruce in the arm, "How could you not know that honey?" 'Boy, saying that felt absolutely right. Focus Benson, you don't have time for this!' "So Mr. Fox, is the other device in place?"

"It is Mrs. Bale." Bruce and Olivia turned to leave, but Fox cut them off. "Mr. Wayne, Miss Benson." They both turned. "Good luck," he whispered. "Oh by the way Mr. And Mrs. Bale," he said louder, "You look great together." He chuckled at their respective blushes, knowing he had hit a nerve.

**A/N: I know it's shorter and a lot less action-packed as the other chapters, but trust me, I have a plan.**

**You all remember Garret Perle from the episode Game. Tell me if the Joker doesn't pick his men well.**

**Next up an unauthorized extradition, some good old fashioned interrogation, and Olivia has a talk with Porter (do not kill me).**

**Please review!**


	8. Chapter 8: Extradition by Other Means

**A/N: Hey guys, especially my first time reviewers, LaceNLeather24 and fanfreak4118.**

**Anyway, I love writing this story; it's lots of fun and helps me become a better writer, but finals are coming up, so this will be the only chapter till Sunday. Sorry about that, especially when you get to the ending. Hope you'll stay with me **

**Where we left off, Lau is holed up tight, but if anyone can get him out its Bruce and Liv.**

**Just as a mental note: when you visualize Penguin here, think of Alfred Molina (Dr. Octopus in Spiderman 2). He's who I would cast for the role.**

**Disclaimer: If SVU isn't set in Gotham City (how awesome would that be?) then I own nothing.**

**Please Review!**

Chapter 8: Extradition by Other Means

One of the leading indicators of economic growth and standards of living was the level of light produced at night. Areas such as Gotham City, LA, and Tokyo shone bright, while countries like North Korea or many African nations were mostly dark patches. Hong Kong was one of the former, with a skyline that rivaled Gotham in size and intensity. Perched on the top of the 2IFC Tower in the heart of the city, Bruce and Olivia could only marvel at its sheer brilliance, but only for a moment, because they had a job to do.

Kneeled on the edge of the roof, only ten feet apart, Bruce loaded several semtex time-delay explosive cartridges into his gas powered, pump-action shotgun (A/N: _the batgun_) while Olivia reconnoitered LSI Tower a mile away. Using a digital readout from Fox's ingenious cellphone sonar generator, Olivia mapped out two guards in the foyer, several janitors and secretaries on the other floors, and Lau plus eight guards in the penthouse suite; nothing they couldn't handle.

Giving a soft whistle, Olivia got Bruce's attention, pantomiming the dispositions of the hostiles with pre-arranged hand signals. Bruce nodded and hefted the shotgun, firing four semtex rounds at specific locations on the penthouse walls and windows. This was going to be a quick snatch and grab, so everything had to go off without a hitch or it would fail. 'Please, Olivia and I have gotten through worse scrapes than this,' he thought with a chuckle. Turning his head to Liv, he mouthed "Hit it!" Olivia pressed a button on her pad, instantly knocking out LSI Tower's power grid.

Lau Qian was in the middle of a heated conversation with his London broker. While it may have been after eleven in Hong Kong, it was the middle of the day in London, and the FTSE didn't operate on Chinese time. Lau had several hundred million invested in the London Stock Exchange, and he was about to tell the broker to sell off thirteen million pounds of securities when the power went out. The phone was a satellite one, so he was able to break off the conversation abruptly, telling his broker to get it done. Reaching into his desk, he withdrew a Type 77 pistol, chambering a round; it might be nothing, but no one was taking Lau Qian unprepared.

One mile away, Bruce and Olivia packed their gear, clad in their new armor. Looking at each other for a moment, they had one of their eyes-only conversations.

"Ready Liv?"

"Ready when you are."

Stretching out their arms, the leapt off the building, plunging over fifty feet before deploying their wings, up till then encased in a plastic deployment case on their backs. Catching in the air currents over the city, Olivia broke off from her partner. It had been decided that they would enter on different sides of the building to better silence Lau's men.

Back in LSI tower, the guards, armed with pistols and shotguns, fanned out in front of Lau's living room, protecting their employer. Cracking his neck, Lau exited his office, annoyed. "Where the hell are the police?" he asked his chief of security, waving his pistol dramatically.

"They're coming sir."

"Stupid _gui_ – turtles; what the fuck am I paying them for anyway?" He owned the State Police in Hong Kong. Many times, they handled trade disputes for him or looked the other way when his men did it. If they weren't so incompetent they'd handle the situation.

Banking sharply like a WW2 dive bomber, Bruce and Liv circled LSI Tower once, taking in their surroundings. Gesturing to his partner five yards to his left, Bruce turned widely in while Olivia circled once more. Aiming for a window on the east side, Bruce tucked and smashed through the glass, rolling and punching one of Lau's goons right in the crotch, causing him to fall with a grunt. A guard next to him swiveled, bringing a pistol to bear when Bruce rose and grabbed his arm. Taking a running start, he smashed through a glass panel, giving the guard's arm a good twist before slamming his mask into his head.

A third and fourth guard, raising their shotguns, leveled them at Bruce when Olivia smashed in. Raising her fist, she fired two quick darts at the guards, who collapsed convulsing on the ground, out of the fight.

Bruce had just given a fifth guard a left hook to the jaw when Lau and the three remaining men began peppering the living room with pistols and buckshot. Dodging the smashing glass, Bruce and Olivia jinked and weaved, soon disappearing in the lightly illuminated room. Lau and his men exchanged furtive glances, beginning to fear for their safety. A walkie talkie cackled to life on the security chief's belt. Answering it, he called his employer. "Sir, the police are here."

"Send them up now!" yelled Lau, loading another magazine into his pistol. The chief nodded and barked several loud orders into the radio. Hearing this, Olivia took a glance at the sonar readout from the foyer. A group of heavily armed police, armed like SWAT and in platoon strength were charging into the building. Due to arrive in any minute, she signaled Bruce, 'Time to wrap this up.'

Still training their guns on the east-south corner, Lau's men didn't register the treat until Olivia came right on top of them from the north side, smashing her fist into a guard's nose. Swiveling, the second guard lined up a shot with his pistol but found his outstretched arm grasped by Bruce, who broke it with one fluid motion. The security chief elbowed Bruce in the face but that only pissed him off. Swinging the second guard like a club, he threw him into the security chief, knocking both of them out of the way.

Lau, panicking, tried to flee but ran right into Olivia, who smacked him right in the pit of his stomach with the first guard's shotgun, taking the wind right out of him. Bruce grabbed the money launderer's legs, dragging him to the windows of the east-south corner all while Lau's shouts filled the room with vile Chinese profanities. "Shut up," growled Olivia, kicking his shoulder.

Bucking Lau to his chest, Bruce and Liv were in the corner when the Chinese State Police burst in, leveling their CF-5 submachine guns. "Hands up! Hands up _gui_!" yelled several throats, eager to kill the foreign devils.

"Don't shoot!" yelled Lau, waving frantically. The Lieutenant (at least Olivia thought he was a Lieutenant from the way he acted; it was like how she did on call), barked an order. The police stopped yelling, but kept their guns aimed, causing a standoff.

Set to timer, the semtex charges went off at that very moment, blowing a hole fifteen feet wide in the east-south corner two story's in height. All crouched in cover except Bruce and Liv, who were expecting it. Both hit a button on their belts, deploying a relay balloon concealed in the same case as their capes were. The two balloons rose skyward, sending a homing signal to their ride.

The standoff commenced again. The Lieutenant by now was sweating bullets, nervously keeping his gun leveled at the Batman and Batgirl. All of China had heard from them, and rumor had it that the People's Liberation Army leadership was afraid that they'd be part of an attempt to take out the Politburo. 'Fuck, if they could do this,' he thought, 'Then the Premier should be worried!'

Flying low, the Hercules C-130 transport aircraft homed in on the signal, hooking the balloons with the nose. Taking Bruce, Liv, and the ever-screaming Lau, the C-130 banked south, heading for the expanse of the South China Sea, away from the People's Republic's territorial waters. The police simply stared in wonder, wondering what the hell they just witnessed.

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"Please, why won't you believe me? I didn't rape anyone! I'm a doctor, I save lives, not ruin them."

"Shut the fuck up," cursed Olivia, sick of Mike Jurgens' shtick. It was like this ever since they had him in custody, back in Manila, on the plane, at Gotham International Airport, on and on with his little sob stories. If it hadn't been for the fact that she spent the last night doing aerial acrobatics with Bruce in Hong Kong, she wouldn't have gotten any sleep on the plane at all. 'Thank you Bruce," she thought wistfully. Olivia wished she could have held him in her arms and kissed the daylights out of him for all he did for her, but that wasn't possible. Frustrated as ever, she took it out on the piece of slime in the back seat. "You are an egotistical little fuck Jurgens," she said, her eyes almost black with contempt. "You sit there, trying to defend yourself like a whiny bitch. We both know that you raped those women, and if I had my way you'd be charged with murder for getting your poor girlfriend to commit suicide."

Jurgens grinned, an evil, malicious grin. "She knew that I was the best thing to happen to her, and the thought of not living without me made her do it. It was a shame, although if you took off these cuffs, I could give you the love I gave her," he winked.

A firm, muscular hand came and smacked him upside the head, causing him to snarl in pain. "The lady told you to shut the fuck up, so shut the fuck up!"

Olivia's eyes narrowed. "I had it under control Dean."

"I know, just a reflex on my part. When someone not far removed from pond scum talks like that to my lady, I tend to get angry." Olivia sighed at that; she knew that the only person she could ever be with was Bruce, even if it meant dying alone. Porter, however, was a nice guy (A/N: _we know that not to be the case, but you'll find out why later_ ;), and she didn't want to hurt him. "Olivia? Are you listening?"

"Huh?" Olivia was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't know what he just said. "I'm sorry Dean, there's just a lot on my mind, what with the escape of Lau and all."

Chuckling, Porter turned the corner onto 5th. "Understandable; anyway, since last time went so well for us, I was thinking we could do it again?"

Much as Olivia didn't want to, that would be the best time to let him off gently. "Sure; I was thinking we could go to Bruce Wayne's house the day-after-tomorrow. He's holding a fundraiser for Harvey Dent, and I'm sure they'd love a federal agent there."

She could have sworn she saw a flash of anger (not jealous anger, but something deeper) cross Porter's eyes, but he turned in front of the 1-6 and there was nothing. 'Must have been just me.' "Sounds good. I'll be sure to bring my badge." He grinned and kissed her on the cheek. Olivia closed her eyes, wishing it were Bruce.

Taking the strangely muted Jurgens out of the car (making sure to bang his head on the roof), Olivia was puzzled at the crowd of officers around the steps of the precinct. 'It's six AM. What could this possibly be?' Spotting one of her detectives, she ran up. "Gordon; what the hell is going on?"

Glancing in her direction, Jim Gordon trotted over. "Welcome back Lieutenant! Cap said for me to take you to him just as soon as you arrived." He gave the prisoner the once over. "So you're the famous Mike Jurgens? Dana told me all about you, and how much of a mincing pussy you were. The inmates at county will love you." Olivia snickered, liking the rookie more and more; Gordon was going places, especially since his and Dana's case closure rate was second only to her's and Elliot's.

After getting two uniforms to drag Jurgens to a holding cell, Gordon led her to Elliot, who was crouched on the steps. He smiled once he saw her. "How was Manila Liv?"

"Boring," she shrugged, although it was anything but. "What's the carnival for."

His trademark Stabler grin grew wider. "Looks like our masked friends sent us a little present." He stepped out of the way, causing Olivia to let out a chuckle. 'I should have known, and oh how this just screams Bruce.' Sitting on the steps was a very haggard-looking Lau Qian, with a note taped over his chest:

_Please deliver to Cpt. Stabler and Lt. Benson_

_Here's something that belongs to you_

_B&B_

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Once Lau sobered up with several cups of coffee prepared with the famous Munch recipe, the interrogation began. Unsurprisingly, Lau lawyered up immediately and asked for the DA, indicating he wanted a deal. Elliot obliged, and soon Harvey Dent was standing outside the interrogation room with him while Olivia and Alex started to grill him, in the presence of Bayard Ellis, a prominent defense attorney and also one of the most expensive in the city.

"So Mr. Lau," said Olivia dryly, acting the part of Badass Benson flawlessly, "We all know you're not stupid. You wouldn't have hidden the money somewhere the Mob could find easily, but it is only a matter of time we find it, unless you give it to us."

The money launderer smiled smugly at her, practically oozing slickness. It made her want to puke and kick him in the ribs at the same time, although she had already done that once before. "I'll only give you the money if there's a deal."

"We'll give you the deal only if you give us the money first Mr. Lau, that's how it works," chided Alex Cabot, playing the good cop in all of this. Her calm, courtroom demeanor made her adept at it.

"That money is the only reason Mr. Cobblepot hasn't skinned me alive, or something as disturbing as that."

"Oh that's right," laughed Olivia, getting in his face with a menacing glare, "The same thing Bushido or Velez's thugs will do to you when they find out you helped us. I wonder if they'll ever hear you scream in County, or will you already be dead before they go to work on you."

"You are threatening my client Lieutenant!" hissed Ellis.

Alex swooped in to clarify. "No Mr. Ellis, Lt. Benson was merely assuming your client's cooperation in this investigation. Now which is it Mr. Lau, the money, or a lengthy prison term in County?" Lau stayed silent, looking stoic and smug at the same time. "Ok, have it your way then." Alex rose, "Lt. Benson, set up a transport detail to County."

"Wait," said Lau, who was whispering with Ellis. Seeing his lawyer nod, he turned to Alex and Olivia. "I cannot offer you my money, but I will be happy to testify against my clients, all of them."

"You were a glorified accountant Lau," sneered Olivia, "What could you possibly have against all of them?"

He smirked, reminding Liv too much of Huang's smirks for comfort; this man was a snake without fangs, cunning without the ability to bite. God help Lau if Penguin or his cronies got their hands on him. "There's the thing about accountants like myself, we're good with calculations. No matter what misgivings they had, due to your boss, I was the only one available to handle their investments. I assure you, I know everything there is to know about the Mob's revenue stream, one big pot."

Behind the one way glass, Harvey brought his fist down in triumph. "That's it, we've got them!" He tapped on the glass to alert Alex and Olivia before turning to Stabler, "I've got one word for you Stabler, RICO," smiled Harvey, referring to the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act, which had been used to try mobsters in the past.

"RICO? I thought only the feds could use it?" asked Stabler, confused.

"They did until Congressman Molina and Senator Sessions passed the Joint Organized Crime Jurisdiction Act last week, allowing the Justice Department to empower local officials to take up federal style prosecutions in high crime areas. As long as we can prove they act in concert with each other, if we can charge one of them with a felony…"

"We can charge all of them with said felony," finished Alex, sounding excited.

"Hold on a moment," added Liv. "Before we go halfcocked here, I'm not comfortable with any deals unless Penguin goes down too."

"Cobblepot's going to be tough to crack, even with Lau. We'll probably need a second witness to add him to the tally."

Elliot jumped in. "I'm with Liv on this. If Lau want' to get out of this, he's going to have to give us Penguin." The prosecutors nodded before Alex and Olivia went back in to the interrogation room.

"So Mr. Lau," said Alex cheerfully, "Tell us what you have about this communal fund. Ledgers, notebooks, bank statements…"

"Temporary protection until this ordeal is over, after which you will provide me a chartered plane back to Hong Kong, naturally at the City of Gotham's expense."

"I'm afraid all we can do is witness protection in the United States, so unless you want to spend the rest of your life as Joey Chang of Wheatville, Montana, let's talk about Penguin."

Lau turned back to Ellis, whispering once more so that neither cop could hear him. Once they were done, the grey-haired Lion of the Courtroom as he was called took over. "I'm afraid all the usable information he had is hearsay, while the rest won't sustain an indictment. However, there is another witness that he believes might help you."

"Who?"

"My client is not talking until you can promise that deal."

"And we're not giving him that deal until he spills, so if you want to live Lau, you better start talking!" spat Liv, relishing in the short flash of fear in the Chinaman's eyes.

Sighing, he did as ordered. "Her name is iris Peterson, she works as a fashion consultant for _Poise Magazine_. She and I are quite friendly." The twinkle in his eye betrayed it was not just a friendship.

"As touching as it is to hear about your love life Mr. Lau, I have no idea as to why…"

"Let me finish. _Poise Magazine_ is a front group for Delia Wilson-Maroni's prostitution ring. Iris is her personal record keeper and also handles the funds that are used to bankroll Mr. Cobblepot's operations, everything from the Falcone Family Civil War to the attempt to frame Commissioner Munch for the murder of an escort. Get her to talk, which you will if you promise her the same chartered plane as I will be on, and not only will she put yet another nail in Mrs. Wilson-Maroni's coffin, but you will also get Mr. Cobblepot."

Harvey let out a war whoop that was audible even in the interrogation room. "Well," said Alex, "Looks like my boss is satisfied. You have yourself a deal, provided you and Miss Peterson testify in open court."

"Of that you have no doubt," said Lau, his face getting smug again.

"Just one thing Lau," blurted Olivia, "I'm curious, when your scumbag clients all go to jail, what happens to all their money?"

"Let's just say, I'm good with calculations."

"You are one greedy bastard Lau. Doesn't that interfere with your Communist ideology?"

"Well Lieutenant Benson, even a communist craves money, and as Deng Xiaoping said, 'To get rich is glorious.'" Even Olivia had to smirk at that.

"Well Harvey," said Elliot to the DA. "That's the entire Mob he's serving us on the platter. There's no way he's going to County though."

"Well Stabler, we can get Miss Peterson a round the clock protection detail, but Lau will have to be under lock and key no matter what."

"Don't worry about that Dent, I'll keep him here in the holding cells."

Harvey scoffed. "What is this Stabler, your fortress?"

Elliot was getting tired of the DA's snarky comments about his unit. "So you trust them over at County?"

"I don't trust them here."

"Let me say this once more Dent, my unit is clean! Lau stays."

"Ok Stabler, have it your way." He chuckled, "It's not like he's got anywhere else to go, and at least you and Benson are clean." Elliot figured that was the best he could get from the new DA.

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Later that morning, Gordon and Dana had picked up Iris Peterson. She looked relatively good, like a supermodel would in her forties. Now though, she was pale and shaky, practically screaming nervousness. Leaning in the interrogation, Elliot watched as Dana and Gordon tag-teamed her. No one was as good as him and Liv, but Dana did a mean interrogation herself, and Gordon was surprisingly good for a rookie.

"We have you down on eighteen felony counts of racketeering Miss Peterson! That's thirty years minimum, if the DA doesn't add money laundering and conspiracy to commit murder to the charges."

Iris turned to her in shock. "Murder? I didn't murder anyone!"

"Oh you didn't have to pull the trigger yourself Miss Peterson. However, providing the money and weapons to Oswald Cobblepot is clearly criminal facilitation, and since your boss Mrs. Wilson-Maroni is going down, thanks to RICO you're going down too."

The woman was shaking, obviously losing it. "But my daughters; my husband is dead. Who will take care of them?"

"They'll be sent into foster care, probably a group home."

Seeing Iris visibly cringe in horror, Gordon grasped her hand. "There is a way out here Iris. We need your testimony to connect Penguin to all of this. Do so and you'll get immunity."

"He'll kill me! You don't know what he's like."

"Oh believe me," interjected Elliot, "We do. He's been responsible for countless murders, extortion rackets, attempted car bombings, you name it. You have a chance to put him away, you. Don't you want his victims to see justice?"

"Iris," pleaded Gordon, patting her hand, white as chalk. "If you testify, we've worked it out so you'd be on a flight to Hog Kong with your friend Mr. Lau. If you testify, you'll be safe."

Before Iris could respond, the door burst open. "This interview is over!" announced Marvin Exley.

"Exley, no rapists to defend so you're defending mobsters?" said Elliot acidly. Exley was the go-to lawyer for the Falcone Crime Family back when the Deviant Don was terrorized Gotham rather than drooling in a plastic cup in Arkham. Since the takeover by Maroni, he'd set up a pretty good-sized practice for himself defending the other deviants and rapists the city had to offer. Also, he stayed as the general council for Delia Wilson-Maroni's interests, being a longtime friend of hers. He was here to shut Iris up and Elliot knew it; the case would go forward without her, but it was far stronger with Penguin's crimes included.

"Sticks and stones Captain Stabler, now if you don't mind, I would like a moment alone with my client. She's done talking."

"No!" All heads turned to Iris, who had an angry look on her face. "I'm not letting Delia take me down with her, not for that waddling prick who'll probably kill me anyway."

"Iris, think about what you're doing…"

"Get out, you're fired. I don't want another lawyer."

Elliot was grinning, "You heard her councilor."

Shaking his head sadly, Exley grabbed his briefcase, muttering something about calling Trevor Langan, whose firm represented the rest of the Gang of Seven. Gordon, grabbing a tape recorder, pressed play. "So Iris, tell us about Oswald C. Cobblepot."

"Where do I begin?"

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"Mr. Dent! Mr. Dent! Is it true Mr. Lau was brought here by Batman and Batgirl?"

Smiling on camera, Harvey Dent turned to face the reporter. "I'm not sure about Mr. Lau's travel arrangements, but I'm sure glad he's back in the good ol' US of A. Next question."

"Can you believe this guy?" hollered Dennis "Denny" King, the new leader of the Parker criminal Gang after Parker's mysterious disappearance. Brash, flashy, and rude, he was exactly like his former boss, except for the fact he was entirely beholden to Penguin. "These fools that are lying for the cops, I want them dead, dead, their families dead!"

"Shut it King," moaned Connors, sick and tired of this. "A word of advice, learn a little patience, even if it is short-term. Your predecessor didn't, and look what happened to him." Sulking, King leaned back in his chair, taking a swig of beer.

After Exley left the 1-6, he had called Martin Henschal, who hand called Trevor Langan (they were firm partners), who had called Maroni, who then assembled the entire Gang of Seven at Raimondos, a local Italian restaurant where they had many meetings. They knew it was only a matter of time that all of them would be taken away, so their planning needed to be in a place safe from bugs. "So," said Aleksayev between chewing his lasagna. "We put word out; we hire the clown?"

"Do we have a choice?' growled Bushido, angrier at the Caped Crusaders than anything else."

"Nope, he was right. We have to fix real problem, Batman and Batgirl." He brought another forkful of pasta to his mouth.

"So we're all in agreement to hire the Joker, right?" Maroni turned to each man.

"Yep," said Connors.

"Agreed," growled Bushido.

"_No es ovious_?" sighed Velez.

"Let's bring those motherfuckers down!" hooted King.

"Honey?" Maroni asked his wife, placing his palm over hers.

Delia looked him in the eye. "Do what you have to do dear."

"Ok, it's all settled. Oz, call the Joker before the cops show up."

Penguin chuckled. "I'm afraid I already did, Waugh, Waugh, Waugh. He seemed happy with the offer, and assured me we'd see the effects soon enough."

"I hope so," mumbled Aleksayev.

Their conversation was interrupted when Elliot walked in, a smug grin plastered on his face. He looked at the TV screen.

"I'm not aware of any participation by the Batman and Batgirl in this…"

"Wow, our boy looks good on the tube doesn't he Sal?"

"Are you sure you want to do this in front of my wife and friends Captain?"

"Oh don't worry," said Olivia, twirling a pair of handcuffs with the same grin on her face as Elliot, "They're coming too." She smiled sweetly at Penguin. "All of them." Behind her, a procession of uniformed cops marched in, proceeding to cuff the entire delegation.

**A/N: And so it begins. Sorry to end with a cliffhanger, especially till Sunday, but I'm sure you won't mind much **

**Do you remember Dennis King from Snitch or Iris Peterson from Lost Reputation? If you do, then you'll know how they fit in the story.**

**Next up, arraignment, planning the fundraiser, a new SVU character is introduced, and one disturbing image.**

**Please Review!**


	9. Chapter 9: Deal with the Devil

**A/N: Hi all. My junior year is done! All the exams are completed, and it's now time for a fun-filled summer of vacationing and writing (novels and fanfiction).**

**Sorry to keep you waiting all this time, but I hope this chapter lives up to expectations. Here, we meet a new SVU character who will play a big role later on, Stuckey confronts Fox, and the Joker reveals himself!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own either, but if I did you'd clearly know.**

**Please review!**

**As a wise man once promised: "I'm a man of my word:"**

Chapter 9: A Deal with the Devil

"Five hundred and twenty-seven counts of fraud, eight hundred and seventy-five counts of racketeering, one thousand and nine counts of assault, three hundred and eighty-three counts of murder and conspiracy to commit murder." Judge Liz Donnelly leafed through the massive prosecution brief on her desk during arraignment. At the people's table, she noticed Dent, Alex, and the other representatives of the DA's office looking smug; why shouldn't they, for it wasn't often that law enforcement raked up arrests in the triple digits. She flipped a page and found a joker playing card. Confused, Donnelly disregarded it and continued listing the charges. "Six hundred and thirty-two counts of extortion, five hundred and seventeen counts of grand larceny, and twelve hundred and forty-five counts of obstruction of justice. How do the defendants plead?"

"NOT GUILTY!" yelled the nearly one hundred defendants, the nearly thousand others watching the proceedings over closed circuit television. Noticeably quiet were the top bosses, all assembled at the front of the court. Maroni, Delia, Aleksayev, Velez, and Connors all seemed calm; Bushido and King were annoyed, while Penguin just fidgeted, eager to get out and handle the situation.

"Order!" Donnelly shouted, banging the gavel on the desk. "Mr. Langan, control your clients."

"I'm sorry your honor," said Trevor Langan, the very definition of an unctuous shark of a lawyer. Watching from the bench, Elliot glanced over at Olivia, who was seething; the antagonistic (at best) relationship between the two was GPD legend. "On behalf of all my clients, we plead not guilty to all charges."

"What a surprise. People on bail?"

"Your honor," said Harvey, rising from his seat. "The people request remand. The defendants are known members of several criminal entities that are renowned for their disregard for the law. We believe they are a significant flight…"

"Why don't you come up and say that to my face cracker," yelled Denny King, who had to be restrained by his lawyer.

Donnelly banged her gavel, her voice rising in anger. "Counselor, control your client or I'll have him removed."

"Calm down Denny," whispered Penguin to his de facto subordinate. "This isn't the time." Denny to his credit calmed down, only accountable to his secret boss.

"Now on the matter of bail, I'm setting it a two million dollars for each defendant, plus they will all surrender their passports."

"Your honor," piped Alex, rising next to Harvey. "The people have an objection regarding Mr. Cobblepot's bail."

"Excuse me?" squawked Penguin, though he expected this.

"Are you questioning my judgment counselor?"

"No your honor, but due to Mr. Cobblepot's reputation for violence and murder, we ask that more restrictive conditions be placed on him so as to prevent retaliation against the GPD and the public." 'Well said Alex,' thought Olivia of her cousin. By the smirk on Elliot's face, he thought the same thing.

"Your honor, if I may address the court?" asked Penguin, taking off his top hat and placing it over his heart. His gesture of humility made Olivia want to barf.

"Make it quick."

"I am a humble man, and I assure you that all my energy will be spent fighting these ridiculous charges leveled against me and my friends."

"Your loyalty and dedication Mr. Cobblepot is commendable, but it is exactly what we want to prevent. I'm amending your bail to three million dollars, and you are confined to your home with a monitoring ankle bracelet. We're adjourned."

Maroni, feeling like he could use a nice hot shower, turned to Harvey and Alex. "Well counselor's, I hope you're ready for the next round."

"Oh, I haven't yet begun to fight Sal," smirked Harvey. "Good luck running your criminal empires when your people are in jail."

"Oh Mr. Dent, you never know what friends we have stashed away for a rainy morning, Waugh, Waugh, Waugh," remarked Penguin, cleaning his monocle with a handkerchief.

"Is that a threat Penguin?" asked Alex acidly.

"Now why would you think that?" mumbled Penguin as the guards took him away. "See you later, Nuck, Nuck, Nuck."

The arraignment done for the day, Harvey and Alex left the courthouse, running right into Elliot and Olivia outside. "Good job counselors," congratulated Elliot, shaking Harvey's hand.

"Thank you Captain, now comes the hard part."

"What's that? The trial?"

"No," Harvey grinned, "Running past the Mayor. Are you sure you can't come baby?" he asked Alex. The blonde blushed at the term of endearment, making Olivia want to scream. The only thing she was more frustrated about than not being able to show Bruce her feelings was the way Alex was stringing him along, no matter how logical it was.

"Much as I would love to, I can't. Lunch with Liv and all that."

Now it was Elliot's turn to look at Olivia with betrayal. "_Et tu_ Liv?"

Olivia laughed. "Come on Elliot, Munch will be there with you. As long as he doesn't make the coffee, you'll be fine." Chuckling, Olivia took Alex's arm and led her down the steps.

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**Harvey Dent Sweeps out Mob: Pursuing State Level RICO Charges Against Gang of Seven.**

Lucius Fox chuckled at the headline of the _Ledger_. 'Oh Mr. Wayne and Miss Benson, I do admire your handiwork.'

"Excuse me Mr. Fox." Fox looked up from the paper to see Dale Stucky, the head accountant on the JSF deal.

"Ah Mr. Stucky," he said in a cheery tone. "Would you like a scone? My wife made them herself."

"No thank you sir," answered Stucky, who even for him was rather chipper, as if having a huge chip on his shoulder.

"So what can I do for you on this fine morning?"

"I ran the numbers on the JSF deal as you requested, and the numbers are completely in the clear. You can tell our friends at Lockheed and BAE that the factories can state cranking fighters out soon. Bing, Bang, Bong." He slapped his knee, annoyingly chipper.

"Why that is good news Mr. Stucky, but couldn't a phone call or a memo have sufficed?"

"For this yes, but the numbers I ran on the shelved LSI Holdings deal popped up some irregularities.

"Well Mr. Stucky, their CEO did flee the jurisdiction and is now currently in police custody. Forgive be for being blunt, but isn't that a 'duh?'"

Stuckey smiled, baring his set of teeth in that annoyingly eager way of his. "Not with their numbers Mr. Fox, but with yours, namely concerning Applied Sciences."

This made Fox's smile contort into a frown; he leaned forward, giving Stuckey his full attention. "Excuse me?" he asked questioningly.

"It's funny how a whole division of Wayne Enterprises suddenly vanishes, all output and profits gone and replaced with several glaring expenditures, yet with no returns. Odd, wouldn't you say?"

"I'm not sure I'm following you Mr. Stucky?"

Stucky waved his index finger at him, "You are a smart man Mr. Fox, that's why I greatly admire you. However, due to my own awesomeness, I knew you were going to say something of that nature, so I pulled some old files." He removed a schematic for the Tumbler and laid it out on the desk. "Don't tell me you didn't recognize your baby pancaking cop cars on the evening news."

Fox didn't respond, his mind processing how to best deal with this.

"Additionally, your office has had several meetings between the big boss and an 'Unnamed Shareholder.' Don't you think it's strange that you wouldn't put who you were meeting with on the logs? Unless it was a certain Police Lieutenant who happens to be Bruce Wayne's closest childhood friend." 'This guy is smart, but does he really know what he's getting himself into?' Fox would have bet that he didn't. "So now, you have the whole R&D department burning through cash on, uh, what was it? Ah yes, cell phones and iPods for the Israeli Defense Forces. What are you building for them now Mr. Fox, a rocket ship perhaps?" he asked jokingly, biting his lower lip in triumph.

"So what do you want Mr. Stucky?"

He grinned, "I want ten million dollars a year, for the rest of my life, along with the company car of my choosing. Bing, Bang, Bong!" He leaned back in the chair, convinced he had won.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Fox took off his glasses casually and leaned forward over the desk. "Let me see if I understand you Mr. Stucky. You think your boss, one of the most powerful and influential people in the USA's business community and his best friend, the most decorated female officer in the history of the Gotham Police Department, are secretly a pair of masked vigilantes who spent their spare time beating criminals to a pulp with their bare hands." As Fox continued on with his questioning, Stucky's face fell slowly from smug victory to nervous fear. "And your plan is to blackmail these people?" asked Fox incredulously. At Stucky's nervous gulp, Fox smirked, "Good luck."

Tugging at his tie, Stucky rose. "Umm, you can keep those," he said, pointing at the schematics.

As the accountant was leaving, Fox called to him, giving a wide grin. "What was it you said Mr. Stucky? Ah, yes; Bing, Bang, Bong."

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"Eleven hundred and seventy-five criminals!" asked Mayor Garcia, an exasperated look on his face. He ran his hand over his face as if clearing his thoughts. "Dent, this is insane, even for you; I mean, you wrote the book on insane. And you actually got Donnelly to hear this farce?"

Harvey shrugged, giving the Mayor his trademark awe-shucks grin. "She shares my passion for justice. After all, she is a judge." Elliot smirked at that; he had really misread Dent, though it was a happy surprise rather than a sad one.

"Ok," answered the Mayor, "Let's say you get convictions out of Donnelly, and that's a big if. This is going to set records at appeal for quickest kick in the ass. Have you even considered it?"

"I have, and it doesn't concern me. The big guys can make bail sure, but the others are too poor to with Lau controlling most of their funds. They can't sit in jail for however many years trial and appeal will take. Their lawyers will take deals that include some jail time in exchange for their testimony on Penguin and the Gang of Seven. Think of what you could do with eighteen months of clean streets."

Garcia pursed his lips, pondering what Harvey said. "Mr. Mayor…" began Commissioner Munch.

"Out, both of you. I want to speak with the DA alone."

Shrugging, Munch began to leave, motioning for Elliot to come with him. "Well," said Elliot after the door closed. "That went better than expected, and my expectations were catastrophic at best."

"Don't be so sure of yourself Elliot," cautioned the older cop. "In my experience, once politicians get into a pissing match over anything involving anything, it starts to go down the crapper."

"Ok, please tell me this isn't going to end up being one of your CIA lectures is it, cause I've heard enough JFK stories from you to last a lifetime."

Chuckling, Munch wrapped an arm around Elliot's shoulder. "You have learned well my young padawan. No, this isn't one of those, just be careful, especially around Dent."

Elliot raised an eyebrow, "Why Dent? He seems genuine. Hell, even Liv is backing him up."

"Well Elliot, Olivia's been wrong before. I'm just saying, don't get too trusting. You of all people should know that."

"Munch, we have only one ace left, and that's Harvey. We need to go all in or lose the chance at winning to pot."

Sighing, Munch looked his protégé in the eye, "I hope you're right Elliot, I hope you're right."

Back in the mayor's office, Garcia was pacing behind his desk while Harvey waited patiently for the talk to begin. "How long have you been in politics Harvey? What, a year?"

"A year and two months next Friday," answered Harvey with the pride of an outsider who'd made it.

"Ok, fourteen months give or take a week. I've been in this business for fifteen years. Over that amount of time, you grasp a feeling of what the voting public is like. Voters Harvey are very hypocritical. They badger on and on about reform this or change that but in reality, they hate change. They fear change. When change rears its ugly head they take a shotgun out and shoot at it. The public clings to the status quo, it's safe, it's known; that's why President Bush's Social Security plan couldn't get passed, no matter how brilliant it was. The only way they'll accept change is if their dragged kicking and screaming into it like with Pearl Harbor or 9/11, or if a man with bright ideas and a great speaking voice leads them into it, like Ronald Reagan. You're like Reagan Harvey; the public likes you, and that's the only reason this might fly."

"Always a complement to be compared to the Gipper," said Harvey.

"I'm serious. Because of that, all of this is going to be on you. No one, not me, not Munch, not the city council, no one will join this with you. It's you and Stabler in this alone, and just remember, Penguin isn't your only worry. Everyone's going to be coming after you; politicians, reporters, businessmen, cops, anyone whose wallet's being picked clean. Believe me, if they get anything on you," Garcia said, standing right in front of his window, "All those criminals will be back on the street, followed swiftly by you and me."

Before Harvey could respond, something hit the window, causing the mayor to recoil in pure fright. Rising, Harvey saw two bodies dressed up like the Batman and Batgirl dangling from two nooses. He rushed to the door. "Stabler, we need you in here now!"

An hour later, Elliot watched as a cherry picker cut down the bodies from their nooses, easing them down to the pavement.

"What the hell happened here?" asked Briscoe, accompanied by Blaine, Dana, and Gordon.

"That," Elliot said, pointing to the bodies.

"Is that them?" asked Dana.

"Let me see." Elliot walked over to the two bodies, Melinda doing her preliminary workup. "What do we have?"

"They weren't strangled," said the ME, "But they were tortured. Knife and burn scars all over the face, plus white makeup."

"Makeup? Oh no…" Elliot removed the sheet off the two corpses and saw it. The faces were painted white with red Glasgow Smiles plastered on the mouth with lipstick. "The Joker, he's escalating."

"Damn," muttered Melinda, handing a card over to Elliot. "Here Cap, this was clipped to the female." Elliot took the card, which was the Joker's calling card. On it was a message:

**Will the Real **

**Batman and Batgirl**

**Please Stand Up?**

**Or Will I Have**

**To Settle With More Fakes?**

**J**

"Come on you psychopath," he said to himself, "What's your angle?"

"Cap!" called Gordon, holding a cell phone. "GCN's got something that we need to see right now!"

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The bar was packed with people, mostly businessmen and government workers looking to unwind for their lunch breaks. Olivia didn't feel out of place in her t-shirt and work jeans as she did at most of the places Alex dragged her to. "So Alex, who is this woman you want me to meet?"

"She's a very rich and very interested venture capitalist who is thinking of donating some money to Harvey's campaign."

"Then shouldn't she go to Bruce's party tonight. You said Harvey would show up."

"Yeh, and it'll take me a crowbar just to pry him out of the car. He's terrible at society events, just like…" her eyes were drawn to a red-haired woman sitting at a booth with a platter of hot wings. "There she is. Liv, be on your best behavior."

"When am I not?" she replied with a smirk, earning a glare from Alex.

The two walked, 'More like elbowed,' thought Olivia, through the crowd to the booth. "Olivia Benson, meet Miss Casey Novak of New York, New York. Casey, meet Lt. Olivia Benson of the Gotham Police Department."

The redhead wiped her face and hands with a napkin before reaching out. "Ah, the famous Benson as in Benson and Stabler?"

"The one and only," preened Olivia, glad someone recognized her public life so readily (her private life was another matter entirely, for there were bat skeletons in that closet). Looking at the massive plate of wings, drenched in hot sauce, she pointed at them. "Mind if I have one?"

"Please," mumbled Casey, already scarfing down on a drumstick. "Help yourself."

Olivia greedily grabbed a wing dripping with sauce, causing Alex to roll her eyes, "So you finally found a girl to do this with, not having to embarrass yourself with Bruce." Olivia stuck a tongue out at her cousin.

"Bruce, as in the Bruce Wayne?" asked Casey.

"Yep," replied Olivia. "He's been my best friend since we were in diapers. Why do you ask?"

"I've been very interested in acquiring shares in Wayne Enterprises. Do you think you could put in a good word for me guys?"

"We hardly know you Miss Novak," said Olivia bluntly. "How do you expect us to trust you?"

"Fair enough," replied Casey, throwing a picked-clean bone into the basket.

Trying to steer the conversation back to Harvey, Alex butted in. "So Miss Novak, you have a proposition you wish to discuss regarding my boyfriend's reelection campaign."

"Yes, that's why I set this meeting up isn't it? As you see, I kind of got distracted." She waved her hands over the plate of wings, causing Olivia nearly to choke, giggling uncontrollably. "Anyway, I have come to admire Harvey Dent's dedication to the cause of justice. For Gotham City, let's just say your reputation precedes you."

"Don't bother with the euphemisms Novak," said Olivia. "I know it all, we're corrupt, run by criminals, the joke that you don't call 9/11 but wave a wad of twenties until a squad car pulls up, and the fact that we let a man and a woman dressed up like bats clean the city for us. Yes, I understand our reputation." 'I am the woman who dresses up as a bat but that's not the point."

Looking flustered, Alex attempted to defuse the situation. "Look, Miss Novak, my cousin is on edge with the prosecution and all…"

"No need to explain; I was an ADA myself when Adam Schiff was District Attorney of Manhattan. I can understand how tiring your jobs can be."

That shocked Olivia. "You were an ADA?"

Now it was Casey's turn to preen. "Yep; got my law degree from Stanford University, then worked in the Manhattan DA's office for seven years. It didn't pay much, but it was worth it putting society's scum behind bars."

"If it didn't pay so much, how are you so rich?" Olivia knew it wasn't proper etiquette but she was in Detective Benson mode, and one doesn't stop Detective Benson when she was on a role.

"Always the detective huh," smirked Casey. Olivia grinned, for she was liking this Casey Novak already. "I inherited a large sum of money three years ago. I know, the first reaction would be to buy a yacht and sail the world with five Calvin Kline models, but I wanted the money to do some good in this world. I have a fund set up to give campaign cash to local prosecutors who defy the odds to get justice, and I want to add Harvey Dent to the list."

Nodding happily, Alex looked Casey in the eye, "So we'll definitely see you tonight at the fundraiser."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, and I hear Bruce Wayne throws the best parties."

"Oh, he's just the pretty face," quipped Olivia, trying not to think the ever present dirty thoughts about that pretty face. "The real genius is Alfred, his butler. I remember this one time when he…" Her eyes drifted off to the TV, which was turned to Gotham Central News.

"Liv, are you ok?" asked her cousin, concerned.

Rising out of her seat, she made her way to the counter. "Police," she shouted over the din, showing her badge to the bartender. "Could you turn that up?" The bartender nodded, turning up the volume. It was a newscast of police lowering down two bodies, the bodies of a pair of Batman and Batgirl copycats. Staring in shock, Olivia pulled out her phone. 'Bruce has to see this.'

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As the cleaning staff made the last minute touchups to the penthouse, workers hauling in chairs and banquet tables, Alfred dismissed the caterers, satisfied with their services. "I hope that you haven't ordered anything disgusting Alfred," cautioned Bruce, buttoning his white dress shirt as he trotted down the stairs from his bedroom.

"Come now Master Bruce, I've been told my taste is exquisite. Remember, I coordinated the logistics for your father's parties, and they were legendary if I do say so myself."

"Well Alfred, as long as you don't get any of that New Age health food crap that tastes like wet cardboard I'll be satisfied."

Alfred smirked, "I assure you sir, it's nothing like that. Based on the RSVPs we have gotten from your list of deep-pocketed donors, this fundraiser is going to be a smashing success for Harvey Dent's campaign. I hope that you find what you're looking for as well sir."

Bruce raised an eyebrow questioningly. "You think I'm holding ulterior motives?"

"Well Master Wayne, there are only two reasons for you socializing with people besides the scum of Gotham's underbelly; one is losing a wager with Miss Olivia, and this clearly isn't that. Second is the more obvious choice, impressing Miss Cabot."

"Much as it warms my heart that you know me so well Alfred, it's not that at all. This Dent, he seems truly like the savior Gotham needs at…" He was interrupted by his cell phone. "Hey Liv!" he said cheerfully, Olivia always putting a smile on his face. "I've been getting ready…"

"Bruce, turn on your TV to GCN now!"

"Olivia what…"

"NOW! Right Now!" Hearing the panic in Olivia's voice, Alfred switched the large flatscreen in the corner to Gotham Central News.

The Anchor was droning about a murder, the caption below him reading: **Batman and Batgirl Dead?** "This cannot be promising," quipped Alfred dryly, Bruce snatching the remote and turning up the volume.

"…beware, the image is disturbing." The feed cut from the anchor desk to what looked like a homemade video, set in an amorphous slaughterhouse, a pig's carcass dangling form a hook in the background.

Tied up on chairs in the middle of the shot were two copycats, one Batman and one Batgirl. "Tell them your names," said a nasal voice that so reminded Bruce of Heath Ledger (A/N: _Wink_). From Olivia's increased breathing pattern on the other end of the conversation, she was thinking the same fearful thoughts he was.

The camera panned in to the man, the shaky hands indicating it was hand-held. "Simon Marsden," he groaned through the mask.

The camera moved on to the woman. "Tracy Marsden."

Over the line, Olivia whispered, "Joker."

"Looks like it," was Bruce's reply, his and Alfred's eyes glued to the screen.

"Tell me Simon [_giggles_], are you the real Batman?"

"No."

"No? [_giggles_] And Tracy, are you the real Batgirl?"

"No."

"No? No, no, no? [_giggling uncontrollably_] Then why do you dress up like them?" he growled, yanking off their masks, revealing a young, interracial couple. He dangled the rubber masks in front of the camera, giggling like a madman. "Who-hoo, who, hoo, hoo."

"They're symbols!" spat the woman, Tracy. "Symbols that we don't have to be afraid of scum like you!"

"Oh you do Tracy," seethed the Joker off camera, approaching the woman and gripping her cheek with a gloved hand. "You really do!" He grabs her hair, only to be distracted by the man's whimper. "Oh Simon no, no, shh-shh-shh," he says in a mock soothing voice, stroking the man's cheek. "You know what you need my man, a little liquid relaxer, something like… ah-ha! Here we go," he flashes a bottle in front of the camera, unscrewing the top, "Vodka, just the thing!" He strides over to Simon and forces the neck of the bottle into his mouth. "Drink it. Drink it! There we go, swallow."

"Just kill us and get it over with!" screamed Tracy from beside her husband.

"Oh, that's the endgame sweetheart [_giggles_]; we still have a lot of important ground to cover." Bruce could hear Olivia's baited breath over the line. "So, you think Batman and Batgirl have made Gotham a better place, hmm?" The two stared at the ground, completely cowed. "Look at me. LOOK AT ME!" At the snarl, the two turned their heads slowly, eyes wide with terror.

Suddenly, the Joker turned the camera, revealing his face in all its glory. Bruce did a quick double take, for the security photos really didn't do him justice. "You see this is how CRAZY Batman and Batgirl have made Gotham!" He takes several deep breaths before continuing, puckering his lips. "You want order, in Gotham [_licks side of mouth_]," he deadpanned, stressing every syllable, "The Batman and Batgirl must take off their masks, and turn themselves in."

He looked away from the camera, seemingly done. "Oh, by the way, every day they don't people will die," he causally remarked, as if giving directions. "Starting tonight [_giggles uncontrollably_]." His voice suddenly became serious. "Be warned Gotham; I'm a man of my word." He then began laughing maniacally, the camera spinning out of control in his hands. Before the feed cut to black however, both Bruce and Olivia made out the blood-curdling screams of the captives.

**A/N: Wow! You watch the first Joker video in TDK and you can see why Heath Ledger deserved his Oscar. Only wish Mariska had gotten one for the same film ;)**

**Who would have given anything to hear Morgan Freeman say Stucky's catchphrase? I would have!**

**Wrote the entire section in a day to make it up to you guys, so enjoy. I went to see **_**Neighbors **_**tonight, and I really recommend it.**

**Next up, the party gets crashed, plus a lot of original Joker action!**

**Please review!**


	10. Chapter 10: Send in the Clowns

**A/N: What's up everybody? Come on guys. I would like as many reviews as visitors. Please?**

**Warning, this is a long one.**

**Anyway, here comes the moment you've all been waiting for, the beginning of the Joker's reign of terror. As promised, there will be some new stuff. There will be a lot of emotional development before the action, but it's important.**

**Be on the lookout for one of my favorite Alfred quips involving Harvey Dent. It always makes me laugh, especially in this version.**

**Disclaimer: If Elliot and his new wife Olivia aren't trying to solve the Joker killings ever Wednesday night, then I own nothing.**

**Please review!**

Chapter 10: Send in the Clowns

The leaked video had horrified all of Gotham, but most were not taking it seriously. To those who knew about the Joker, he was just some lunatic who talked crazy but didn't do anything, sort of like those doomsday cultists who kept stockpiling guns for the apocalypse. Those who didn't know about the Joker assumed as much. However, for MCU, Elliot had made the Joker case priority number one for the department. He had Fin and Beck running the evidence recovered off the bodies, Goren and Eames securing the crime scene, and the others on standby in case things went ugly, which in his mind they most certainly would.

For Olivia, Elliot's paranoia was clearly reasonable. From her extensive knowledge and experience with criminals, both as a detective and as Batgirl, she had a suspicion that the Joker was one of the most dangerous she had ever seen. She wanted to talk to Bruce about it, but aside from the phone call there was no time, and Olivia hoped that she could corner him at the fundraiser for at least a few minutes.

That was the plan, at least it would be if she could dislodge herself from her date. His arm intertwined with hers (his action, not hers) as they ascended in the elevator, Olivia looked at Dean Porter, who smiled down at her. If certain things had been different, he would have been a great catch, but there were two nagging issues that negated any chance at a relationship. First of all, he wasn't Bruce; to Olivia, that was reason enough. The second reason however was the most confounding issue she had. There was just something about Porter that she couldn't place, something in his eyes. There was a fire in them, almost mirroring Bruce's fire in great detail, but dark where his was light; that similarity had attracted her to him in the first place, but the more Olivia thought about it, the more convinced she was that breaking up with him was the right course of action to take.

With a ding, the elevator opened up to the penthouse, packed with the who's who of Gotham's business elite. Working her way through the crowd, Olivia would have felt uncomfortable if not for knowing that Bruce hated these events as much as she did. Anyone who knew him at all would realize that he wasn't a rich snob like most of these people undoubtedly were. Even the penthouse could attest to that, which unlike a lot of garish residences Bruce had dragged her to as payment for losing a bet (not that she minded going as his plus one anywhere), the Wayne city apartment was completely tasteful, almost certainly caused by her de facto uncle.

Speaking of which, "Uncle Alfred," called out Olivia with a loving smile. Managing to get out of Dean's grip, she embraced the old man, who hugged her back warmly.

"Good to have you here Miss Olivia. You can't have a true Wayne party without Gotham's finest Constable."

"You flatter me too much Alfred," she laughed at him, who was more of a father to her than anyone. "Oh Alfred, I'd like you to meet my plus one for the evening, Special Agent Dean Porter of the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

"Ah, a member of the FBI, pleased to meet you," said the butler professionally.

"Likewise, and what a great job you did with the place. The food looks divine."

"The food is catered sir, except for the shrimp, which is my own special recipe."

"Dean," gushed Olivia, trying to get him in a good mood before she broke it off, "You have to try Alfred's shrimp. It is to die for."

"Lead the way Lieutenant," said Dean, allowing Olivia to guide him to a banquet table, Alfred watching. 'So that's the man she's been seeing, and something tells me that she will end it tonight.' Although he couldn't have one of the silent conversations that Bruce and Olivia did with their eyes alone, Alfred hadn't practically raised Olivia from birth without picking up on a few things. "Oh would those two get their heads out of their arses and tell each other how they feel," he muttered to himself. However, he knew them too well, and so he forced a smile and grabbed a platter of champagne to serve the guests.

About ten minutes later, Dean had gone to the bathroom so Olivia was out on the reception room floor just hanging around, uncomfortable being here. Usually at these society events, Bruce was there to keep her company and diffuse the tension that existed, even though both of them would rather curl up by the TV and eat one of Alfred's hearty but delicious fares like they did when they were kids. "Well Lt. Benson, nice to see you again."

Olivia turned around to see Casey Novak, the redhead looking elegant in her violet dress, contrasted with Olivia's red dress with a leg slit that ran up right above her knee. "Please, out of the precinct it's Olivia."

"Well then Olivia, you may call me Casey. Felling uncomfortable I see. Not one for these fancy shindigs?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"No, but I have a knack for these kind of things," Casey said, winking. "In reality, I'd never set foot in these kinds of parties until joining the New York DA's office."

"Really?" asked Olivia, intrigued by this woman. "I thought you said you were from a rich family?"

"I was, but my mother and I grew up in poverty, no electricity, no gas, and no indoor plumbing."

"That's awful," sympathized Olivia.

Casey shrugged, "It wasn't all bad. We had a very close friend, someone without the phoniness and airs you see around here. Sometimes," her eyes went glossy, as if she were visualizing a happy memory, "When we had a roaring fire going, me and my mother would curl up under the blankets, nice and warm, and feel very rich indeed. That's why I want my new found wealth to help society rather than just grow in a vault somewhere."

'Now this is a woman I can like!' "Bravo," answered Olivia, clapping softly as if at the Opera. The two women shared a laugh.

Meanwhile, accompanied by Alex, the guest of honor had arrived at the party. If Olivia had felt uncomfortable, Harvey was downright terrified. Once a North Shore working-class kid, always a North Shore working-class kid.

Taking in his nervous features, Alex couldn't help but teas him. "Harvey Dent, Gotham's White Knight and the scourge of the Gang of Seven, scared stiff by the trust fund brigade." She poked him in his ribs playfully.

Harvey tried to deadpan, "Compared to these guys the Mob doesn't scare me."

Smirking, Alex kissed him on the cheek. "Don't worry; I've been to a lot of these. Their stares are worse than their bites. Oh, there's Liv and Casey Novak, excuse me." Alex walked away despite Harvey's attempts to pull her back.

"Alex," he whispered, "Don't leave me alone with these – and now she's gone." He threw his arms in the air, frustrated as hell.

"A little liquid courage Mr. Dent," said Alfred, striding up with a tray of bourbon and Champaign.

"Thanks, you are a life saver," thanked Harvey, taking a glass of bourbon and draining half of it." Alfred right?"

"Yes Mr. Dent, the Wayne Family butler and steward since nineteen seventy-five."

"Alex has told me a lot about you; you've known her for her whole life."

"Oh, not yet sir."

Harvey chuckled, leaning in closer. "Any crazy friends or psychotic ex-boyfriends I should be aware of?" he whispered.

"Oh you have no idea," replied the butler, giving the DA his best grin.

Left speechless, Harvey was still trying to get his wits about him when the whine of a helicopter drowned everything else out. Landing on the helipad conveniently adjacent to the penthouse, the Wayne Enterprise corporate chopper emblazoned with the company's logo disgorged its passengers, Brue Wayne and three lovely ladies wrapped around his arm. Olivia, standing with Casey and Alex, suppressed an urge to gag; Casey just smirked, while Alex rolled her eyes. "So that's Bruce Wayne?" remarked Casey, grinning wickedly. "Is he always like this?"

Olivia responded with a forceful "No," at the same time Alex replied with a sidelong "Yes." Casey giggled as the two cousins glared at each other.

Oblivious to the family drama, Bruce entered his penthouse, looking like he owned the world (based on Fortune 500's list, he kinda did). "Hello everyone. Glad to see you started without me. Now, where is the man of the hour?" He looked around, smiling when he spotted a sheepish-looking Harvey. "Ah, there he is, Harvey Dent. A big round of applause for Gotham's finest DA." After the guests gave him a warm round, with a few whistles from Olivia which caused Bruce to laugh, he continued. "Now then, where's Alex Cabot? Come on out Alex, don't be shy."

"Go, go," said Olivia, chuckling as she literally pushed the reluctant blonde into the center of the room.

"Ah, there she is, one of my oldest friends." Alex fought an eye roll, knowing what Bruce was doing. "You know, when Olivia Benson, another close friend, told me that Alex was dating Harvey Dent, the first thing that I said was, 'That guy from those God-awful campaign commercials?' Come on, I Believe in Harvey Dent? Where'd you get your consultants, Costco?" The guests shared a laugh while Harvey did his best to melt into the furniture. "But, it got Alex's attention, and I started to pay attention as well, and all that he's been doing as our new DA. You know what, I believe in Harvey Dent. I believe that under his watch, we can all see the light at the end of the dark tunnel, when before there was nothing but blackness. Here's to Harvey." Bruce raided his glass to toast the DA, who felt on top of the world.

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Leaning back in his office chair, Elliot pondered the situation he had been flung into. No one had ever said life as a Captain, or a detective before that, would be easy but no one could have figured Elliot's current job. Gotham City had a way of making other big city law enforcement jobs look like a day at the park; it was no wonder that so many of the cops in Gotham allowed themselves to be bought off, it was just so much easier to look the other way than end up sleeping in the North River (no one had yet found former DA McCoy's body even after three years).

Through it all, Elliot had persevered, though it had taken its toll on him. His body bore its share of scars from violent clashes with pissed off gangsters and Penguin's hit squads, though the greater tolls were of the emotional variety. Before, when he was still a Sgt/Detective in SVU, Elliot had always allowed himself time to be with his family at least once every two days. Now, it was lucky to be once a week with all the intricate political wheeling and dealing that came with fighting the mob. He felt like he didn't know his own kids, and relations with Kathy were nearing rock bottom; she was sick with some kind of stomach bug at the moment (A/N: _Are ya' sure El?_), and he wished that he were at home taking care of her rather than dealing with the Joker. 'When this is over,' he vowed, 'I'm taking the family on a long vacation somewhere warm and sunny. It's the least I can do.'

"Cap, you gotta' see this!" shouted Fin, barging into his office with Dani.

"What is it?"

Dani brandished lab report. "Doc Warner ran a scan on the Joker's card we found on the body and found four DNA samples."

"That makes sense; the Joker always leaves clues as to his next target. Any matches in the system."

"Yep, to all four: Iris Peterson, Judge Donnelly, Harvey Dent, and," she gulped, "Commissioner Munch."

Rocketing out of his chair, Elliot snatched the lab report. "Son of a bitch! You two stay here and hold the fort. Call Gordon and Dana to get Peterson and Goren and Eames to get Donnelly. I want both of them in protective custody. Have Lake and Breslin find Dent at Bruce Wayne's party and get him here now! I'm heading to city hall. Seal it off, no one in or out until I get there!"

"Roger that Cap."

Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he found Lenny Briscoe in the hallway. "Lenny, come with me."

"What's going on El, you look like someone's died?"

"Someone might," he said, relating the information about the DNA. "Where's Blaine?"

"He's with the car; do you need us to drive you to Munch?"

"Thanks Lenny." Elliot hurriedly dialed Liv's number, remembering she was at Bruce Wayne's party.

"_Hi, you have reached Olivia Benson, please leave a message…"_

"Damn it Liv, pick up."

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After nearly an hour of pointless mingling (although Bruce did find Casey Novak a delightful companion, unlike the other stiffs), Bruce and Olivia had finally managed to get some peace and quiet on his balcony overlooking the city. It felt nice thought Bruce to himself. He glanced at Olivia, who looked radiant in the dim light, her red dress complementing the slicked up auburn hair. They never got to just relax like friends, too preoccupied by their lives or their secret lives to do this often.

"Motherfucker," cursed Olivia, grabbing her ringing phone. "Not now El," she seethed, letting it go to voicemail.

"That's the third time he's called Liv, maybe it's important."

"Believe me, it's probably about some DD5s or shit like that. Don't read into it much. Stabler's just a big baby, like another partner of mine." She gave him a sidelong glance filled with suggestion.

"Ouch," Bruce mimed a gunshot wound, causing Olivia to giggle.

"You are such a child Bruce Wayne." Once the giggling died down, the conversation turned serious.

"So Olivia, have you ever thought about what your life would be like when Batman and Batgirl were no longer needed."

'Yes, I'd lose you to Alex and we'd never be a close ever again.' She couldn't say that however. "With all my work and our activities, I've never really thought about it."

He turned to gaze at the city. "I think about it all the time Liv, but in reality, whenever I allow myself to think it's coming, I feel afraid, like I know something is holding me back."

"You've changed Bruce," she told him, looking at his profile. "It's ok to be apprehensive about going back to who you were before life thrust you into the muck. I don't think I could ever go back, for my experiences have changed me too much to revert."

Shaking his head slowly, sadly, Bruce glanced down at the street below, the cars looking like glowing ants. "I want to change; at least I think I do. I have to," he almost whispered that last part, as if he were trying to convince himself of that fact. Olivia was speechless; she thought his recent moodiness was simply being lonely, not something much more substantial.

Before she could probe further, a silhouette appeared in the doorway from the penthouse. "I knew you two would try to sneak out of there," scolded Alex jokingly. "You did it when you were seven and you're doing it now."

Olivia wanted nothing more than to help Bruce through this, but she knew that he had to talk to Alex. Spotting Dean waving to her from the inside, she jumped at the excuse. "I'll leave you two to chat." She calmly walked back inside.

"You know," said Alex in her courtroom voice, "Harvey may not know you well enough to realize when you're making fun of him, but I do."

"I meant every word Alex," replied Bruce. It was time to have the talk with her; it was what he wanted since his parents died, what he was sure he wanted now, a chance to be what he once was (A/N: _Oh Bruce, so in denial; don't worry readers, everything will fall into place_). "Alex, remember the day we talked about, when Gotham no longer needed Batman and Batgirl? When Olivia and I would be safe?"

"Bruce, you can't ask me to wait for that." She wasn't entirely sure that she wanted to either. She loved Bruce but also loved Harvey. God, it was confusing.

"It's happening now Alex, Harvey is that hero. He locked up half of the city's criminals without having to wear a mask. I want to know, will you wait?"

"I don't have an answer Bruce. I'm sorry, but I need to think." (A/N: _Don't hate Alex, she's just completely confused in this whole mess; I need to show this indecision to set up for some later issues_).

That was like a punch to the gut, but Bruce understood. It was a lot to sink in.

"You throw a party Wayne, I'll tell you that," said Harvey from the doorway. 'What is it with people interrupting my conversations?' "Can I borrow Alex for a minute?" Not wanting to be rude, he let Alex go graciously. Watching the pair leave, he couldn't help but wonder how good they were together. For a moment, he asked himself if he was selfish to keep Alex from Dent, if he was who she was meant to be with. It was a messed up situation for all parties involved.

Looking back up, his eyes drifted to Olivia, who was talking to that douche Porter. He seemed happy, but Bruce knew that she wasn't. He could tell Olivia was as lonely as he was, never being able to keep a relationship; there was a small part of him that was glad, which mortified the rest of him. 'Olivia deserves to be happy,' he thought, 'Why do I feel this way?'

Turning her head, their eyes locked for a moment, and Bruce felt as if he were staring into her soul. A thought came to his mind; was the reason he was afraid of being with Alex because of Olivia? Was Alfred right that day nearly two weeks before? 'No, of course not. It's Liv for crying out loud. She would never have those feelings for me, and besides, I don't deserve her.' Little did he realize he didn't deny that he had feelings for her (A/N: _He hasn't admitted it yet; that's much later guys_).

"Hello? Olivia, can you hear me?"

"Huh?" She had been so preoccupied by Bruce's gaze that she didn't hear a word Porte said. God, she could stare into his eyes forever.

"I was saying that I think this relationship may be turning into something more. What do you think?"

She sighed; she didn't want to hurt him, but now was as good a time as any to spring the bad news. "Dean, you're a nice guy and all, but I don't think it's going to work out. I'm sorry."

She had expected anger, but after the initial shock wore off, all she could see in his eyes were a cold contempt. It was oddly familiar, though she couldn't remember where. "Very well then," he said icily. "Goodbye Olivia." With that he turned and walked to the elevator.

"Damn you El!" she shouted when the infernal device rang for the millionth time. "Benson!" she growled into the receiver.

"Liv, finally! I've been trying to reach you for nearly an hour!"

"What could be so important for all this?" she asked. His answer made her turn white. "Ok, I'll handle things," she squeaked, hurrying to find Bruce. He turned out to be chatting with several business acquaintances. "Bruce, I need to talk to you."

"Excuse me gentlemen. Yes Liv?" he asked jovially. She whispered in his ear, causing the joviality to drain form his face. "Let's go," he whispered back.

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City hall was swarming with shotgun armed uniforms and M-16 armed SWAT troopers when Elliot arrived with his team. Without stopping for anyone, they marched into the building and headed for Munch's office on the fourth floor.

"Elliot, what are you up to?" asked the grey haired patriarch of the GPD, sitting in his plush chair right underneath the massive portrait of JFK, flanked by SWAT.

"Sir, we believe the Joker has made a threat against your life," said Elliot breathlessly, busy sweeping the room for bugs and booby traps. "Ok, it's secure. Lenny, take a team and sweep the floors for anything out of the ordinary."

"Got it Cap."

Once it was just Munch and Elliot, the older man gave his protégé a smirk. "Ironic, I thought my first real death threat would be from the CIA. I was pretty wild back during my youth, before I settled down with a mortgage and three ex-wives."

"Look Munch, while normally I would be up for a talk about your wild hippie days, now's not the time. We need to get you to MCU and then to a secure location outside the city."

"Calm down Elliot, you'll over-exert yourself like with the Anderson case. The way you're going, you'll be in this chair soon, and the first thing you need to know is how to deal with a death threat." He reached into his cabinet and pulled out a forty-year old bottle of whiskey and a tumbler. "Next is telling future ex-wife number four why I'll be late for dinner," he said with a grin.

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These are serious people Judge," said Bobby Goren, who was at his wit's end trying to get Liz Donnelly out to her car.

"Let's get one thing straight Detective, I am not cowering in front of a terrorist. I've faced worse threats and I've survived," she retorted, referring to when Merritt "The Riddler" Rook nearly killed her with a shot of potassium chloride hidden in one of her couch cushions (A/N: _I know, it wasn't one of his crimes, but it just sounds like something the Riddler would do doesn't it?_). "Besides, you aren't giving me much to go on."

"Believe us Judge," pleaded Alex Eames, "Even we don't know where you're going. Take this envelope, it'll tell you where to go."

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"Oh God," moaned Iris Peterson, pacing back and forth in front of her brownstone's fireplace. "I knew this would happen. Penguin's coming after me."

Detective Jim Gordon may have been a rookie, but even he wasn't ignorant enough to correct the woman. It was common knowledge that this Joker was hired by Penguin for the Gang of Seven, although proving it would be a bitch as usual. "Look Iris, we need you to get Penguin and the others behind bars for good. We'll protect you."

"What about my daughters?" she asked with a panicked look in her eyes. "Can you protect them?"

"Honey," answered Dana Lewis in her southern drawl, "We'll get all of you to a safe house outside the city. The Joker will not be able to get you there."

"Ok, come down girls." As she got the girls ready to leave, Gordon couldn't help to think of his newborn son that he and Barbara had. If Jim Jr. was in danger, he'd be out of his mind too.

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Tugging a laughing Alex into the kitchen, secluded from the reception room, Harvey pulled her out of sight and gave her a long kiss on the lips. "Never leave me alone with these people again," he said after pulling away.

"The whole Gang of Seven is after you and you're worried about these guys."

"I understand the Mob better than I do the world of high class etiquette. It's more of a familiarity thing than anything."

"So, much as I enjoyed that first part," Alex said with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows, "Why did you bring me here?"

"Well Alex, the Mob gunning for me made me think a great deal. About what my priorities are; about whom I wanted to spend the rest of my life with."

"That's a pretty big commitment Harvey," said Alex lightly, secretly dreading this. First Bruce now Harvey, it was getting infuriating. "Are you sure you want to go through with it?"

"I make my own luck remember, and when the moment's right…" He let his speech trail off, removing the small black box from his suit pocket. "Let's be serious for a moment. What's your answer?"

Alex, her mind going haywire at this point, gave him the same answer she gave Bruce, "I don't have an answer Harvey."

Sighing, Harvey put the box back in his blazer. "I guess that's a no then."

"Harvey…" said Alex, not wanting to break his nor Bruce's heart.

"Is there someone else?"

"Harvey…"

"Please tell me it's not Wayne, the man is a pretentious…" He was cut off by Bruce's arm around his neck.

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"So Elliot," said Munch, pouring a double in the tumbler, "Give me the situation."

"Sir, the Joker card had traces of your DNA on it."

The Police Commissioner chuckled. "And I thought I saw everything back at SVU. So how did they get my DNA anyway?" he asked, raising the tumbler to his lips.

"Probably someone with access to your home or office, and who knew your particular habits," Elliot looked at his mentor and suddenly made the connection. "WAIT!"

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Sitting in her car, finally convinced by Goren and Eames, Donnelly took out the folder and removed the single sheet of white paper inside. It read:

**UP**

"What the hell?"

Those were her last words, for the car brewed up in a massive inferno, incinerating Donnelly to where only dental records could identify her. Charging out of their car, Goren and Eames discovered the vicinity of the car was covered in Joker cards, blown out by the explosion.

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"Here Miss Peterson, this way." Gordon shepherded the kids while Dana escorted the shaking witness. Across the street, Gordon observed a group of young men looking straight at them. One raised his hand with some sort of garage door opener, pointing it at a late model Ford Taurus. Clicking it, the gang ran away just as the trunk of the Taurus popped open.

"GET DOWN!" he yelled, throwing the two girls to the floor, him right after. The air erupted in a hail of bullets as the M-60 machine gun spat death from its perch in the trunk, hooked up to a swivel mount. Loaded with a fifty round belt, the gun fell silent after what seemed like hours.

Gordon, patting the girls down and then himself, called out to his partner. Dana, you alright?"

"Yeh; asshole grazed my arm though. Son of a bitch!" Beside her was Iris Peterson, a bullet wound right through her forehead. Clipped to the gun was a Joker card.

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Elliot was too late. After taking one sip, Munch started choking and keeled over. "Get a Bus!" yelled the Captain. Looking at the bottle, he noticed something underneath the label. He inspected it, and found one Joker card. 'You sick fuck.'

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Watching stunned as Bruce knocked Harvey unconscious with a head lock and Olivia just watching behind him, Alex whispered "What the hell are you doing?"

"They're coming for him," answered Liv, opening the door to the pantry as Bruce dragged Harvey into it.

Hearing the elevator near the penthouse, Alfred moved to greet the latecomers. As the door opened with a ding, he came face to face with Breslin and Lake, who were roughly shoved aside by the Joker himself, brandishing a shotgun. "Sorry we're late."

Bruce pulled a broom out of the closet, locking Harvey in the pantry. "Stay hidden," he cautioned Alex as he and Olivia made their exits.

The Joker fired a round of buckshot in the air, getting everyone's attention. "Good evening ladies and gentlemen," he shouted as the clown henchmen fanned out, Uzis and pistols at the ready. "We are tonight's entertainment." Spotting the buffet table, he skipped over to it and picked up a shrimp kebab, nibbling at the seafood. "Mmmm-hmmm! Great shrimp, complements to the chef." He tossed it aside and cleared his throat. "Now, I just have one question for all of you. Where is Harvey Dent?" he hollered, accenting every syllable. Staring down the guests, he grabbed a champagne flute, draining it dry. "Harvey, you know where Harvey is?"

"Hey hands up pretty boy!" commanded one of the clown henchmen, seeing Bruce walk down the hallway. Without breaking stride, the billionaire kicked the clown in the crotch, grabbing the shotgun and wrenching it from his grasp. Twirling the weapon in his hand, he smashed the butt into the clown, toppling him, while Bruce began stripping it.

"You know where I can find Harvey? I need to talk to him about something."

Seeing Olivia walk down another hallway, a clown whistled. "Hey gorgeous! Take off your top…" Olivia gave him a roundhouse kick to the temple, causing him to crumple to the ground. Catching the Uzi flying through the air, she stripped it just as Bruce arrived at her side.

"You ok Liv?" he asked, keeping his eyes straight ahead and his tone steely.

"I've been through worse," Liv replied the same way.

"Harvey Dent, big dude, about yea high?"

Barging into one of the guest bedrooms, Bruce and Olivia startled a pair making out on the couch. "What's going on? Wayne?" mumbled the man, busy zipping his trousers.

Bruce and Olivia both ran their thumbs over a granite tile in the wall, causing it to open. "Oh, thank God you've got a panic room," said the girl. Holding the secret door open for Olivia, Bruce hunched over and walked in, shutting it behind him. "Oh you have got to be kidding me."

"You know, I'll settle for his loved ones," remarked the Joker, reaching Alabama Senator Jeff Sessions, one of the fundraiser's honored guests.

"We aren't intimidated by thugs!" growled the Senator, looking disgusted.

The Joker merely nodded, the smirk on his face amplified by the scars and makeup. "You know," he said while wagging his finger, "You remind me of my father." He pulled Sessions down and put a knife to his mouth. "I HATED my father!"

"That's enough!"

Turning around, the Joker spotted the graceful, blonde form of Alex Cabot staring defiantly at him, outside the panicked crowd. He released his grip on Sessions, the clown henchmen manhandling him back into the crowd. "Why hello beautiful! You must be Harvey's squeeze, and must I say, the DA has excellent taste!"

Tossing the shotgun to one of his henchmen, the Joker circled Alex, who wasn't bothering to hide her scorn and loathing for the criminal. "What's the matter? [_licks corner of mouth_]" he said, his voice filled with mock concern. "You look nervous. Is it the scars?" He gripped her hands tightly, pressing the knife to her mouth to make her look at him. Alex, not wanting to, did anyway and took in his face. Hidden beneath the neatly-applied makeup were three scars: two Glasgow smiles curving upward from his mouth and a burn mark that covered half his chin. It made him look more horrifying than he would have been otherwise.

"It probably is. Yu want to know where I got them?" he asked with a smile, Alex knowing he would say anyway. "Once, I had a wife, [_licks corner of mouth_] and she was beautiful like you. She loved me with all her heart, but often complained that I didn't smile enough. She also had a gambling problem, and got in deep with the sharks. Now we weren't rich, so they went to work on her to make an example of those who didn't pay. We didn't have money for plastic surgery, so she fell into a deep depression. [_licks corner of mouth_] " Alex tried not to wince as the Joker's grip grew tighter. "I just wanted her to smile again, to know that I didn't care about the scars. So, I took a razor and did this," he ran the knife around his mouth, "To my face. And you know what, SHE COULDN'T STAND THE SIGHT OF ME! She left, but not before throwing a pot of boiling water at my face." He uses the knife to point to his burn scar. "Now I see the funny side." He grins. "Now I'm always smiling."

Utterly disgusted by this freak, Alex kicked him in the shin, causing him to withdraw. Instead of howling in pain, the Joker smirked. "Got some fight in you? [_licks corner of mouth_] I like that!"

"Then you're gonna love us!" said a raspy male voice.

Leaping down from the second story, Bruce smacked right into the Joker, throwing him to the floor with a punch to the ribs. One of the clowns raised his mini-Uzi but was crumpled by one of Olivia's darts, making him jerk and writhe on the floor. Deploying her nightsticks, she and Bruce proceeded to engage the remaining clowns. The Joker, not at all out of the fight, scrambled to his feet and grabbed clown after clown, throwing them into the fray. Clutching two massive men, he pushed them straight at Olivia, who found herself dueling blows with Andre the Giant lookalikes. Figuring that Batgirl was occupied at the moment, the Joker clicked his heels, revealing a knife blade sticking out of his shoe. Hobbling forward, he gave Bruce (on the floor due to a pair of clowns) several kicks, the blade deflected by the armor. Lashing out with two wild punches, Bruce pushed the Joker back while knocking out the two clowns with an elbow to the face and a knee to the gut. Olivia had just as much success, braining one if the giants with her nightstick while kicking at the other one, his face coming into contact with a column.

Hearing an audible CLICK, the two heroes turned to see the Joker holding a revolver to Alex's head. "Drop the gun," growled Olivia.

"Yeh I'll do that, you just take off your masks and show the world who you really are." Giggling, he shot the window behind him and stuck Alex out of it by the elbow, the wind blowing at his green hair.

"Let her go," rasped Bruce.

The Joker grinned. "Very poor choice of words." He let Alex go, laughing maniacally.

Bruce leaped after Alex, Olivia not far behind. Screaming, the EADA slid over the side just as Bruce grabbed her arms, all three falling rapidly. Gripping Bruce's leg firmly, Olivia reached into her belt and pulled out her grapple gun, firing off a line to the roof. Felling it hold, she slowed their fall with just enough space to make a safe landing on the roof of a cab.

All three were breathing heavily form the fall. "Harvey?"

"He's safe," said Bruce, turning to Olivia. "Thanks for having my back there."

Olivia smiled back at him, "Always."

"Let's," mumbled Alex, "Not do that again."

Back above, as the clown henchmen collected the wounded, the Joker looked down, chuckling quietly. "Phase three complete. Now it's time for the race to start." The giggles were heard by everyone in the penthouse.

**A/N: And the Joker's terror begins!**

**Hoped you liked the assassination scenes. I didn't want to kill Munch, but you can't make an omelet without breaking eggs. Borrowed the Peterson/Gordon scene from the Breaking Bad finale, cause that just screamed Joker.**

**Coming up, we'll see the aftermath of the Joker's raid, plus some original material. Just a heads up, there will be one more hostage video, plus an additional explanation of the Joker's scars.**

**Please Review!**


	11. Chapter 11: Cat and Mouse

**A/N: Hello again. I'm currently in California right now, soaking up the sun and writing this story. Life is goooood! **

**Where we left off, the Joker made his dramatic debut, and people did die. Now, Bruce and Olivia are on the case, Harvey is out for blood, Penguin is released from jail, Elliot and his squad are racing against the clock, and the Joker is, well, the Joker.**

**Disclaimer: You know**

**To thejokersbrother, yes there will be two batpods.**

**Please Review!**

Chapter 11: Cat and Mouse

It was a nightmare come true. Judge Donnelly was dead; Iris Peterson, and the case against Penguin, was dead; Munch was dead, a horrific loss for the GPD; and on top of all that, if it wasn't for the caped crusaders Harvey Dent would be dead. The Joker had revealed his true colors as one psychotic motherfucker, and Elliot, for the first time in his decades on the force, was lost for what to do.

Seeing his friend and superior close to falling apart from the stress, Sgt. Lenny Briscoe stopped by the vending machine and brought over two ice cold sodas. "I know I'm not Liv or Kathy, but trust me, you don't want to suffer in silence."

Grunting, Elliot grabbed the can and took a long swig, the cool liquid running down his throat. After a man-sized belch that made Briscoe snicker, Elliot asked, "So where is Liv anyway?"

"I got a call saying she was at the Wayne penthouse. Apparently the good Bruce Wayne was too disturbed and shaken from the whole Joker ordeal in his home that he needed his best friend who was also a police officer to stay with him."

Elliot smirked, "Well when the real world comes crashing through their doorman buildings, the sheltered high class usually can't stand it. On the other hand, it's Liv. She's always had good taste in everything except men (A/N: _Remember, she was openly dating Porter and other losers_)." Briscoe just shrugged. "So, I guess Penguin's trial is over." Without Iris Peterson's testimony, whatever dumb schmuck they assigned to the case was bound to dismiss the arrest.

"Forget Cobblepot El, the entire prosecution is over. No one is going to touch this with a hundred foot poll now that Police Commissioners and Judges are getting whacked."

"Dent's still alive."

"Please," Briscoe scoffed. "If I were Dent I'd be halfway to Mexico by now."

"I happen to dislike Mexican food Sgt." Both officers turned to see the DA, a fire in his eyes that wasn't there before. "Now where do you keep your trash?"

Elliot stood and guided Dent to the holding cells while Briscoe snorted, a smirk on his lips. "Well what do ya know."

Dent entered the cell and threw a bulletproof vest at the sleeping Lau Qian, waking him with a jolt. "Rise and shine Mr. Lau; it's Grand Jury time."

"What makes you think I'll still testify Dent?" asked Lau, yawning.

"Well, there's the fact that you won't ever see Hong Kong or the rest of your beloved China again until you do. This here vest will keep you alive long enough to get you into court."

"Fool, you can't protect me. You can't even protect yourselves, much less a witness."

"You don't testify, you go to County, and the life expectancy for you there would be measured in hours, let alone days. I'm your only chance and you know it." Elliot grinned; they might not be able to get Penguin, but as long as Dent was alive they had a shot.

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After making sure Alex was safe and sound, Bruce and Olivia, accompanied by Alfred of course, hightailed it to the temporary HQ to assess the new threat. "Ok," remarked Bruce, staring at several HDTVs vividly displaying all known footage of the Joker, a facial analysis scanner plotting his face from the hostage video. "This psycho's been active for a while, but he's always seemed too low on the totem pole to warrant any attention. It's time for a reassessment. Liv, you have files on this guy right?"

"Oh boy do I!" said Olivia, dropping a stack of files two feet high on the desk, it landing with a loud THUNK. "This is everything MCU has acquired on the Joker, all a trail of crumbs that leads to nowhere."

"There must be something that sheds some light on him. What is his history?"

"Well," Olivia pulled out a file from the stack, "The first crime we can definitively place on him was the murder of a defense attorney in Virginia, found raped, burned, and mutilated with a knife."

Bruce furrowed his brows. "None of these other crimes has any rape involved."

"He had an accomplice who they managed to catch, and spilled the beans on him, detailing the makeup and everything. The trail leads on from there, a series of murders for hire, armed robberies that include murder, etcetera, etcetera… This guy is a real piece of work."

"I agree with you on that Liv. The only reason he'd go after us is Harvey's prosecution, and anything of this magnitude regarding the Gang of Seven just screams Penguin, though he wouldn't have acted without at least Maroni's orders.

"If I know that waddling freak, he's sitting on the sidelines, not handling any of the dirty work. It's pretty obvious the Gang is behind this but with the Joker doing the actual deeds we'll never prove it."

"Agreed, but this is disturbing. We both knew the Mob would fight back but this is different, they've crossed the line."

"If I may speak," said Alfred, wanting to add his words of wisdom to the discussion. "You two crossed the line first. By upsetting the established order, you hammered them to the point of desperation. In their desperation, they instructed a man they didn't fully trust to turn to a man they didn't fully understand."

"Criminals aren't complicated Uncle Alfred," said Olivia, walking with Bruce to inspect their armor, "We just have to figure out what he's after, and trust me, they're all after something."

"With due respect Miss Olivia, perhaps this is a man you don't fully understand. I know you take refuge in your police experience just as Master Wayne takes refuge in his days with the League of Shadows, but let me tell you one of my own experiences. Back in my SAS days, I was in Burma. The government was engaged in a struggle against the communist insurgency, and to gain an edge they bribed the local warlords with precious stones. The caravan however was ambushed north of Rangoon by a bandit, and we were sent to hunt him down and get the stones back. In all our travels for over a year, we never found anyone who traded with him." He paused for dramatic effect before continuing. "One day, our patrol spotted a child playing with a ruby the size of a tangerine."

Olivia's mouth dropped open, for being a girl she knew the value that stone was worth. "The bandit was throwing them away?" she asked breathlessly.

By the puzzled look on Bruce's face, he was just as shocked. "Then why steal them in the first place?"

"Well," Alfred shrugged, "Maybe he thought it was good sport or something. The point is though, there are some men in this world that aren't motivated by anything logical. They don't desire anything material like money, power, or sexual gratification. They can't be bought off, reasoned with, threatened, or negotiated with. Some men, JUST WANT TO WATCH THE WORLD BURN (A/N: _Emphasis added_)."

Bruce and Olivia looked at each other, then turned their faces to the middle screen, frozen halfway through the Joker's laugh. There was no way such a man could exist, both thought.

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With the death of Judge Donnelly, jurisdiction of this case went to Judge Barry Mourdock, who was not happy at all about it (he , as most men, had a strong aversion to an untimely death). Harvey could see that, and was scared himself despite his outwardly cocky exterior. The people had elected him to do his job however, and no terrorist would keep him so long as he and the ones he loved had breath in their bodies.

"Your Honor, with the tragic death of Iris Peterson, the people do not possess the required evidence to sustain these charges."

"The only reason Miss Peterson is dead is because your client had her killed," spat Alex, sending a hate-filled glare back at Trevor Langan, a smug looking Penguin sitting next to him along with the rest of the Gang of Seven.

"As my co-chair said," added Harvey, knowing he had to go for broke to sustain the charges against Penguin, "We intend on using Miss Peterson's Grand Jury testimony at trial once it returns an indictment."

Langan raised his arms in a gesture of disbelief. "The prosecution is trying to make an end run against the Constitution, namely the right for my client to confront his accuser. They possess no evidence that Mr. Cobblepot is behind these Joker Killings, and the DA knows it."

"Your Honor, it's obvious to anyone with common sense!"

"It may be Mr. Dent, but common sense and admissible evidence of witness tampering are two different things entirely. Much as it sickens me, the grad Jory testimony of Iris Peterson is out."

"Therefore your honor," Trevor Langan was like a shark in the water, one whiff of blood in the water and he started circling. "I am moving to dismiss the counts against my clients for lack of evidence to sustain an indictment."

"We still have the testimony of Lau Qian to place nearly all of the defendants at the scene or with knowledge of said crimes."

"I agree, the motion is denied except in the case of Mr. Cobblepot, who I'm dismissing the charges against."

"Are you kidding me?" hollered a voice from the gallery.

"Captain Stabler, you are out of line," replied Mourdock forcefully.

"He causes the death of a witness, a judge, and Commissioner Munch and I'm out of line!"

"One more word and I'll find you in contempt of court, now sit down and shut up!"

Elliot was about to respond, damn the consequences, when he felt a sympathetic hand rest on his shoulder. "Don't El," said Olivia softly, "It's not worth it." Sighing out the rest of his frustration, Elliot took his seat, Olivia taking the empty bench right beside him. She had rushed over from the courthouse once the strategy session with Bruce was concluded, and she knew her friend and partner would need her support. From the look on Elliot's face, she was right.

"Alright then, this court is adjourned."

The defense side began congratulating and backslapping Penguin, who was soaking it all in with a chuckle and a wink. "Disgusting don't you think?" said Alex as she and Harvey reached the two leaders of MCU. "How's detective Lewis?"

Elliot gave a small smile. "She's unconscious from surgery but should make a full recovery. Gordon's quick thinking saved her and Iris' kids, though that does nothing about the case. Are you sure we can't make anything against Penguin stick with Lau's testimony?"

Harvey shook his head no. "He's never witnessed Penguin personally engage in any illegal activity, and that grubby bastard's covered his tracks too well. We just have to bide our time and get the Gang of Seven sent away for life."

"Won't that put Penguin in line to take over all the organizations?"

The DA gave one of his best cocky grins. "I wouldn't flip a coin on it, and I flip a coin on everything." He wiggled his eyebrows at Alex who rolled her eyes. "It would require him a level of trust deep in the organization that he doesn't have, and…"

The conversation trailed off when Penguin and Langan walked out of the courtroom. "Mr. Dent, Miss Cabot, Captain Stabler, Lt. Benson. Have a nice day, Waugh, Waugh, Waugh." Penguin tipped his hat and walked out, followed by Langan who took an extra-long look at Olivia's body. God, she wanted to take a shower after that slug looked at her.

Walking outside, Penguin chuckled to himself. The plan he and the Joker formulated was going perfectly, and soon Gotham would be his.

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At eight PM that night, a call went out to the Gotham City MCU, marked for Cpt. Elliot Stabler or Lt. Olivia Benson only. Since Olivia had taken the night off, only Elliot took the call. The voice on the other end was unidentified, but the voice was instantly recognizable: The Joker.

"_Stop by apartment complex 852 at the corner of Eighth and Orchard. You'll find Harvey Dent there."_

Immediately, Elliot raced out of the precinct with Fin and Beck, hopping in their squad cars. On top of the Northrup Tower, the highest building in Gotham and the second highest in the United States, two shadowy figures listening in did the same.

The three officers burst through the door, unsure whether this was another dead end like the bank bust or that they would find Harvey Dent's mangled corpse. They found a corpse alright, two of them. A quick check of their features indicated that neither was Harvey however, and Elliot was puzzled. Each had been murdered by the Joker, that was clear. Both had painted faces, Glasgow Smiles cut into their faces, and multiple burn marks with what looked like keys and cigarette butts. 'The Joker never kills randomly in the literal sense; every death means something, even if it's the twisted Joker version of meaning.'

"Check the names," growled the voice of the Batman, appearing out of the shadows, Batgirl by his side.

Glancing down at their shirts, each had a Gotham City nametag attached, indicating them to be municipal employees. "Richard Dent. Patrick Harvey."

"Harvey Dent," said Dani, adding two and two together.

"This guy is seriously off the deep end," muttered Fin, shaking his head in frustration.

Bruce strode over to the table, giving it a quick once over before moving to the wall. Olivia, sensing her partner was in investigative mode, turned to her day-partner. "We need five minutes with the room before your CSU teams contaminate it." Being a cop, she knew police procedure inside and out.

"Us contaminate it?" yelled Dani angrily, "It's because of you two that these guys are…"

"Detective Beck," shouted Elliot, his temper beginning to rise at the insubordinate cop. Sensing this, Fin wrapped an arm around his partner and led her out of the room. 'I still have a funny feeling about her,' thought Olivia as she joined Bruce by the wall, a large bullet hole in the bare concrete. "You planning on taking ballistics off a shattered bullet?" asked Elliot, genuinely concerned.

"Nope," Bruce removed a saw and cut around the hole. "Fingerprints." Olivia raised an eyebrow underneath the mask. 'This I gotta' see.' She turned her head and spotted something on the floor. "Capt. Stabler. I would have your CSU guys take a sample of that."

"What? That pile of vomit?"

"The Joker always leaves clues. Maybe it's in that."

Elliot looked down at the puke on the floor. "Alright, I'll see what I can do…" He looked up to see the two gone. "Not again."

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Later that night, Olivia leaned on a table in the temporary HQ, a cup of coffee in her hands to ward off sleep. "I swear Wayne, you've gotten me on a more sleep-depriving schedule than when I was a detective, if that's possible."

"Remember Liv," replied Bruce, "You asked to be my partner." 'Thank God you did.'

"Don't remind me," she grumbled.

Alfred, watching the playful banter with a hidden smirk, placed the last round of 9mm Parabellum ammunition into the clip, shoving it in the custom Gatling test gun. "Now if you two are quite finished, we have a simulation to run."

The three put on their ballistic goggles and earmuffs, Bruce tapping a series of icons on the digital control pad. The gun, running automatically, leveled into position and fired a round at a set up brick, same design as the one recovered from at the tenement. Remaining level, the mount shifted to the left on a special rail system, firing four more times.

"I'm sure you didn't make it loud enough sir," quipped Alfred as Bruce went to inspect the bricks. Selecting the right one that corresponded to the one recovered, he removed it from its mount and brought the brick to the scanner.

"If I may ask Bruce," mentioned Olivia, "Why is it billionaire playboys get to play with this stuff while us cops have to work with obsolete junk?"

Bruce grinned, for he loved it when Olivia was secretly envious of his gadgets. "Well Liv, I guess the government doesn't want to pay the $800,000 price tag for one of these machines." He placed the brick inside the scanner, the computer running a digital read on the fragmentation patterns of the bullet. "I'll tell you what Liv, when the hubbub from this whole Joker fiasco dies down, I suppose Wayne Enterprises can make a charitable donation of these monsters to the GPD, out of the goodness of our own hearts."

She smiled at him, one that he knew was only reserved for only four people in her life (Stabler, Alex, Alfred, and himself). "If the tabloids only saw the Bruce Wayne that I do." After a moment, Olivia's smile faded and she became serious. "I've been doing some thinking regarding the Joker's reluctance to kill Harvey."

"You're sure it wasn't a matter of convenience." The fact that it was a statement and not a question proved how much he understood her thought process.

"Yes, I've been thinking that maybe Harvey's a target in his sick game, in addition to us."

"It would make sense," added Alfred. "Take care of Mr. Dent and you end the prosecution, plain and simple."

"Dent's the short term goal, us the long term one, let's just hope we catch him before the situation gets really fucked up."

Looking at her watch, Olivia stood from her seat. "Much as I would love to stay here with you two, I need to get home and get some sleep. If my instincts are right, tomorrow the Joker will have something really big planned." She sincerely hoped her instincts were wrong.

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Arriving at the doorstep of Denny King's massive penthouse apartment, Penguin tapped his umbrella patiently on the floor, waiting for the door to open. Hearing a click on the other side, the door swung open to reveal the head of the Black Mafia and Penguin's secret Lieutenant. "Welcome sir," he said meekly; King was usually a cocky hothead like the deceased Darius Parker, but unlike him was bound to the Underboss by blackmail; he had once killed a young teenager who whistled at his girlfriend, and the only witness was Penguin, one of the few people he couldn't threaten or intimidate. As a result, he was bound forever. "Congratulations on your release."

"Thanks. Nice of you to offer your house as a meeting place, not that you had a choice, Waugh, Waugh, Waugh." King smiled weakly as Penguin took a seat on the plush recliner, the other guests all standing until he waved them down. Assembled here was what Penguin considered his special council; comprised of young hotshots and leaders of alternate organizations seeking to extract themselves from under the Gang of Seven's rule, all shared one thing, complete loyalty to Penguin, be it out of respect, extortion, ore general fear of their lives. "Let's get this meeting started shall we. Firstly, I would like to say that the time is coming."

"How soon can we move out?" said Brian Ackerman, leader of the Gotham branch of the Aryan Brotherhood (he owed Penguin for taking care of an FBI investigation a while back).

"We have to give the Joker more time. Everything is set perfectly, as long as the Batman and Batgirl play ball the plan is as good as done."

"That's assuming we can trust the Joker," observed Rafael Zapata Gaberia, a major drug dealer in the Cartel who betrayed Velez for Penguin all for the basic human reason, he got greedy. Penguin didn't trust him as far as he could throw him, but he was useful. "He doesn't seem like the type who can be controlled, or one to be loyal and abide by a contract."

'Takes one to know one.' "Once he's outlived his usefulness he will be disposed of. For now though he is key to the execution of the plan, namely keeping Stabler, Benson, Dent, and our caped friends from drawing their attention on our plan. They'll be too concentrated on his attacks and how he connects to the Gang of Seven to shine the spotlight on us."

"But what about Dent?" asked Tommy Avakian Jr, one of Aleksayev's ground commanders. "We need him dead, and the Joker's moving on!"

"He has to move on Tommy, for what he plans for Dent will ensure my rule of the city is unmatched, which will benefit each of you."

"How can this happen?" asked King.

"Imagine a Gotham without hope, without a drive to better itself. Now imagine it controlled by me and terrorized by each of you. That is what I'm talking about gentlemen. When the Joker is done with Harvey Dent, the city will be begging for us to take it over." He could find no one disagreeing with the prospect.

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Olivia walked into the bullpen, her hair disheveled and eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep. "Damn you Bruce Wayne," she whispered to herself, knowing she didn't mean it. In all actuality, she should blame the Joker for her current state, though he had much worse things to answer for.

"Jesus Baby Girl," said Fin, rising from his desk. "Have some coffee. You look like hell."

"I feel worse, trust me. Thanks," she said, smiling softly at Fin. Out of the entire squad she and Elliot put together, aside from Briscoe she liked Fin the best. "Is Elliot in?"

"The question you should ask is when is he not?" She chuckled at that; like all dedicated cops, he were more at home at the precinct than at home. Olivia knew that if she added her Batgirl hours on top of her cop ones, it would be true for her as well. Half walking, half shambling to Elliot's office, she knocked softly.

"Come on in," growled Elliot. This was going to be a tough one.

"Hey El."

"Looks like you had as bad a night as I did. Your mother again?"

"Yes," Olivia lied.

"It's got to be rough on you Liv. Maybe you should take a vacation."

"No El; the current situation works for me. She needs me sometimes but not all of them." It was true that Olivia's mother was terminally ill, and she did get the doctor's reports that it was getting worse. What was not true was the fact that she needed Olivia. Upon the first and last time Olivia visited, Serena Benson screamed that the spawn of evil should leave and never come back. Alfred had comforted her that day, allowing her to let go, but it did give her a good excuse for her nocturnal activities. "So what's keeping Kathy practically a single mother?"

What else, the Joker. I just can't figure out his next move. I mean, he killed 'Harvey Dent' so who is he gunning for next?"

"I think I know," said Jim Gordon, barging into the office. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but this cannot wait. Remember that pile of vomit we found at the tenement."

"Yeh," said Elliot, Olivia hiding a grin at discovering it first.

"I just got back from the ME. She said that it is comprised of ammonium nitrate, a bomb component, and a special blend of foods that are usually served in municipal cafeterias."

"So the Joker's targeting a public building."

"I thought so, so I checked the usual spots: the courthouse, Municipal Tower, One PP. I got zilch."

"So we don't know what to expect."

"No, and that's the worse part. I expanded the search, and found a match in the security feeds." He handed Elliot and Olivia a photo. In the security shot, a janitor was pushing a large trash bin; it all seemed normal, except the janitor's face was looking straight at the camera, grinning widely; the paint and lipstick made no mistakes, for they were looking at the Joker.

"Where was this taken?"

"PS 141, the largest elementary school in the city."

**A/N: BUM, BUM, BUMMMM!**

**Next chapter is completely new material. We'll see some serious Joker action, plus an intense Bruce/Olivia bonding moment.**

**I love Alfred in this section. I think I captured the essence of his lecture even with adding Olivia. What do you think?**

**Had to put the Penguin scene in there to clarify his intentions. Has he outsmarted the Joker, or has the man we love to hate figured him out too? Read on and see.**

**Please Review!**


	12. Chapter 12: Doubts

**A/N: Greetings from the Golden State. Don't think I've forgotten all of you.**

**Last time, MCU figured out the Joker's next target, but things aren't that simple; with the Joker they never are.**

**This chapter is completely my creation, only using the characters of SVU and TDK. The Joker gets in another monologue and video, Bruce and Olivia get a little too close for comfort (or is there too much comfort ), and there is a particularly interesting dream sequence for you SVU fans out there. Hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I am not in possession of anything, but If Dick and Chris are selling…**

**Please Review!**

Chapter 12: Doubts

Not taking any chances, especially not with the Joker, Elliot had the entire school evacuated, each staff member and kid interviewed out of nearly 2500 people. There were dozens of different events, including but not limited to: Bigfoot breaking in to do a tap dance, alien invasion, and Elliot's favorite, President Bush beating up five clowns with his bare hands. The mass evacuation tied up a quarter of Gotham's available police officers, leaving units short staffed throughout the city and creating a communications nightmare. No one knew what unit went where since the operators were flooded with hundreds of fake Joker sightings, each one needing investigation.

After nearly three hours, with thousands of irate and petrified parents and spouses threatening to riot if they didn't get to see their loved ones, the commander of the Bomb Squad exited the school, helmet off and face drenched in sweat. He was carrying something wrapped in a towel. "We did a full sweep of the entire school, classrooms, offices, even the fucking boiler room. We found this in the vent of the janitor's closet." He unwrapped the towel to reveal a bomb, one of the cliché ones from Loony Tunes cartoons.

"That's it?" asked Olivia, at the level past exhausted.

"Not, there's more." The bomb squad commander pressed a red button on the bomb, causing a flag to pop out the top, with the word BOOM! emblazoned on it.

Elliot took the bomb in his hand, shaking with anger and frustration. "FUCK!" he screamed, chucking the toy as far as he could throw. The reactions of the other MCU members were similar Olivia observed. The Joker was getting to them, more than any other case had in the past (and SVU had some doosies). They, especially Elliot, were in danger of cracking.

Deciding to preempt the inevitable breakdown, she went into Lt. Benson mode, a more authoritative version of the original Badass Benson. "Alright everyone! There's nothing more to be done here; all of you go home and relax, that's an order!" The detectives grumbled but did as they were told. She walked over to Elliot, who was still shaking with anger. "You too El," she said softly. He grunted in response, causing her to sigh and place a hand on his shoulder. "I know its tough El, but killing yourself won't catch the Joker quicker. Go home and be with your kids. It'll help, especially with Munch's funeral being tomorrow."

He turned and gave his second-in-command a tired but wide smile. "Thanks for having my back Liv."

"Always El," she replied with a wide smile of her own. Heading for her car as he headed for his.

Shutting the door of his car, Elliot slammed the steering wheel, letting the remaining frustration seep out of his soul. The Joker was undoubtedly the most evil and diabolical criminal he had ever faced. Wherever MCU was, the Joker was five steps ahead of them, ready with yet another gruesome trap. This wasn't just Penguin, who favored complex strategies formulated down to the last detail; break one of his codes and the entire plan unraveled. The Joker on the other hand was completely unpredictable, his plan being the conspicuous lack of one beyond the overarching goal. God it was frustrating.

Then it hit Elliot; to outmaneuver the Joker, he'd have to beat him at his own game. He had do something that was completely out of character, something that no one thought he would do. He pulled the car into gear and headed home, his head filled with possible strategies.

Nearly falling down exhausted, Bobby Goren and Alex Eames, two of the longest serving detectives in the GPD (they were partners for eight years in Organized Crime before joining MCU), headed for their car which was parked in the staff lot on the other side of the school. Each wanted nothing more than to go home and crash onto their respective beds.

"Detectives!" called out a frantic voice behind them. Both turned to see a SWAT trooper, gesturing violently in panic. "We have a situation, come with me!" The partners followed, reaching the open back of the van. Stepping in, they were greeted with leveled MP-5 submachine guns, the troopers (probably not real troopers) grinning evilly.

"What the hell is this!" yelled Goren, suddenly angry.

Two of the faux troopers removed the two detectives' service weapons while another closed the back door before the leader, sporting a gas mask, stepped forward. He slowly removed the mask, causing Goren and Eames' anger to turn to horror.

"Wheeew!" said the Joker, running a hand through his hair. "You do not want to know how hot that mask is. Tell me Garrett, is my face smudged?"

The lead clown henchman smirked. "I think you look simply horrible sir."

"Perfect [_licks side of mouth_]. Now, what to do with you two?" The two detectives couldn't stop shaking, causing the Joker to giggle, which didn't help. "You two are much too serious. How can we lighten the mood? Ah, how about a story, the one about how I got these scars." He pointed to his Glasgow Smile and burn scar with the barrel of his pistol, smiling in that frightening way of his. "My parents died when I was very young, and I went to live with my uncle. He was a hard man, who had a particular fondness for teenage girls. He couldn't get enough of em [_licks side of mouth_]. When I was fifteen, he brought home this brunette seventeen year old, beautiful as was his type; a cheerleader at the local high school if I remember correctly. They had their fun, but when he fell into a deep slumber, she walked out of his bedroom and looked at me, a seductive glint in her eye. She was so pretty," the Joker practically pleaded, as if defending a bad decision. "She went down on me, and I felt so gooood [_licks side of mouth_]! I was about to climax when a large hand wrapped around the girl's neck. My uncle lifted her up and slammed her against the wall, squeezing the life out of her in seconds. He turned to me, took the cigarette out of his mouth, and pressed it to my chin, saying 'You were smiling big there son,'" the Joker mimicked a redneck southern accent. "He took a knife. 'I'll make it permanent for you.' After, he took me for ice cream, and you want to know something?" He took the pistol and pressed it to Goren's temple. "It was the best day of my life!" He pulled the trigger, earning a click. The Joker dissolved into giggles.

"Just kill us now," hissed Eames.

"Oh, the fun has yet to begin detective."

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Home, a place you could call your own and feel safe and secure, comfortable and happy. Olivia did not consider her one bedroom apartment home. Firstly, she never spent any time here. Between the cribs at the 1-6 and the Batcave, she was here less than a third of her life. Second, she had always considered Wayne Manor as her home, the last place she was truly happy. Sighing, Olivia leaned on the wall, closing her eyes. Oh for the carefree days of her real childhood, playing in the grounds with Bruce and Alex, Alfred and Mistress Martha preparing a hearty meal for all of them; her mother was even a regular mom much of the time, the Wayne's keeping her alcoholism under control. Olivia was sure she had loved Bruce even then, for they shared a special connection from those early years. "Oh God," she called out to the Lord, "Why must I love the one person who I can never have?"

The doorbell rang, jarring her out of her thoughts. Confused, she went to the door, wondering who the hell was there. Unchaining the deadbolt, she threw it open, her mouth contorting into a surprised O at who was there.

"I take it you're surprised then?" asked Bruce with a grin, thinking she never looked better than when she was caught off guard. "Pleasantly I hope."

Shaking the shock out of her face, Olivia managed to compose herself a bit, only to keep getting distracted by how handsome he looked in his suit and tie. "What are you doing here?" she managed finally.

He looked slightly hurt, "What? I can't come to my best friend's house bearing gifts to cheer her up after a rough day?" He lifted a bag of Chinese takeout in his hands, from her favorite place she couldn't help but noticing.

Smiling at his thoughtfulness, Olivia let him in. "I wish I could have been there. The filthy rich Bruce Wayne at a common Chinese restaurant."

"Believe me, even the bystanders were staring in the window. It was embarrassing, but you re worth it," he said, meaning every word. He couldn't help but think how beautiful she looked in just a GPD T-shirt and sweats; it was a feeling that he never had with Alex, and it made him blush a bit.

Blushing as well, Olivia bit the bottom of her lip, trying to find a way out of this conversation even though she didn't want to. 'It's for Bruce and Alex Liv, don't ruin his life for your own selfish wants.' "So, how did you get in the building without buzzing me in?"

"Thankful for her question, Bruce's embarrassed look turned into a smirk as he reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small device. "Fox," he said, as if that explained it.

It did to Olivia, who smacked him on the head. "You broke in! I could arrest you for that," she said, trying to sound serious.

"No problem; I have some information for them that would get me a deal." Bruce winked at her, plopping down on the couch with a carton of takeout.

"Cocky bastard," murmured Olivia before she burst out laughing, sitting down beside him. God, how this man could make her smile. She opened an unopened carton and smirked at him. "Mongolian beef with white rice. It amazes me how much you know me Wayne."

"I try to know as much about you as you know about me Benson," he said, stuffing an eggroll into his mouth. "So, I'm going to Fox tomorrow to get the fingerprint results. You coming; I think he prefers it when you come than when I go alone."

"Well that's because I'm the pretty one," she retorted, batting her eyelashes. Bruce wanted to agree, but decided to keep silent, unsure of how she would take it. He had finally admitted to himself that Alfred was right and he might have feelings for Olivia, but it was all so confusing to him. She didn't deserve him for one, and he still wasn't sure it was just jitters from getting nearer and neared to the day Batman was no longer needed and he could be with Alex. The whole damn thing gave him a headache. "But I can't anyway. Munch's funeral is tomorrow and I owe it to him to be there."

"You liked your old Captain didn't you?"

"Yep; John Munch my not have been the easiest person to deal with, but he kind of grew on you in that charming way of his. He was smart, funny, and one of the few people in power during the bad old days that wasn't corrupt. He, Elliot, and Alex made up my family during those dark times after you disappeared."

"I'm sorry about that Liv. I was selfish and after Skinner died I had to get away from everything. Maybe if I knew how badly it would have affected you…"

Bruce was cut off by Olivia's hand cupping his chin; she couldn't stand him feeling guilty because of her; it tore her up inside to cause him any pain. "You never have to apologize to me for that Bruce. You needed to find yourself and so did I. You came back and came back a good man, and that's all that matters to me." Bruce sighed, knowing that he definitely didn't deserve her in his life. "Enough work. There's nothing that cannot be discussed in the morning. How about a movie?"

"Which one?"

"How about _Black Hawk Down_?"

Bruce rolled his eyes. "How cliché Badass Benson. Sounds perfect."

She giggled and put the DVD in, snuggling in the couch afterward.

Opening his eyes slowly the next morning, Bruce felt a massive creak in his neck. _God damn it Alfred! I told you to change the mattress every two years._ He tried to wipe his eyes, but something kept him for m lifting his left arm. He looked down and saw Olivia cuddled against him, wrapped in a green throw blanket. He smiled, realizing they must have fallen asleep last night after the movie. He made a move to wake her up when he stopped himself. She looked so peaceful in sleep, a serene look on her face that he hadn't seen since before his parents died. Giving her a feather-light kiss on the top of her head, Bruce decided to just let Olivia sleep, knowing they both needed it. 'This feels so right,' was his last thought before drifting off again.

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_Olivia had a rough day at work, rougher than usual if that was possible. Not only did Bruce keep her up all last night on evidence gathering, several bodies had been found just as she arrived at the 1-6 that resulted in exhausting investigative work. All she wanted to do was lie on the couch and bury herself in a carton of Ben & Jerry's until the exhaustion went away. _

_Opening the door to her apartment, Olivia stepped inside carrying a large bag of groceries picked up at the local bodega. She had just set it on the counter when a small thump came from the bedroom. "Hello?" she called, thinking it was probably Bruce playing a prank on her. His joking manner would have irritated the hell out of her if she didn't love it and him at the same time. "Bruce, this isn't funny…" She was stopped by a gun to her head._

"_Welcome home Lieutenant Benson," whispered the Joker, stepping out of the shadows with a wide grin on his face. "You look nervous [licks side of mouth]. I have just the thing," he giggled as two clown henchmen grabbed her from behind, wrenching her service pistol out of the holster. The Joker finished giggling as he caressed her cheek with the barrel of his gun. "Shhh, everything will be fine, for me!" He brought the butt down on her head._

_Olivia awoke with a blazing headache, her chest feeling as if it were on fire. "Oh look, sleeping beauty is awake [giggles]." Olivia threw her eyes open, wanting to scream but feeling her mouth duct-taped shut. "Glad you are awake, we wouldn't want to have you asleep for all the fun." The clowns heaved her up, Olivia feeling that she was strapped to the chair._

"_What's that?" the Joker asked, hearing her mumble something. He ripped off her tape and she spit at him, Olivia's face contorted in pure contempt. _

_Unlike what she expected, the Joker dissolved into giggles. "You are a feisty one. Like I said at the Wayne Penthouse, I like feisty." He patted her on the cheek, bringing a hot key to her exposed upper chest. Olivia gasped in pain, but refusing to cry out; that was just the Joker wanted. "Oh, by the way, I have some great news for MCU. I've solved your most pressing case." He imitated a drum roll, tapping the door. Two more clown henchmen dragged in a man. Olivia's face contorted in horror. "Presenting to you, the Batman, or should I say," He yanked off the mask, "Bruce Wayne!"_

_Opening her mouth to speak, all that escaped was a ragged breath. Olivia felt as if her entire world was falling apart, and it really was. "How?" she finally croaked._

"_A magician never reveals his secrets," he said, winking at her. "Now, if you have something to say to your friend, say it now." He stepped back, folding his arms in front of his chest with a smirk, the clown henchmen laughing and nudging each other with their elbows._

_She hated to bare their personal lives for these swine, but knowing the Joker they had only a few minutes left to live. Olivia only hoped she could convince him to kill her instead of him. "Oh Bruce, why did it have to be you?"_

_The bruised, battered, and burned face of the man she loved rose slowly to look her in the eye, boring straight into her soul like it always did. "Liv?" he murmured, as if dying._

_She was openly sobbing now. "Yes Bruce, it's me. You're going to be just fine."_

_A small smile spread on his lips, covered in dry blood. "We both know that's a lie. Liv, please promise me something. Let me die. Go and live your life the way you deserve. Please."_

"_No!" she screamed. "I can't leave you. There's no life without you. I, I, I Love you Bruce!" There was no response; Bruce had passed out. _

_The sound of clapping filled the room. "So touching; so, so touching. A declaration of love just as he was unable to hear it. How sad that he won't ever know." The joker brought the gun to Bruce's head, flicking the safety off. _

"_Please, don't take him! Take me! I'm Batgirl; I deserve to die not him!" The Joker chuckled once more, the fiendish grin never wavering from his face as he cocked the hammer. Olivia, sensing that pleading was never going to work, dropped her voice to a menacing growl. "Do you understand who I am Joker? I'm a GPD officer; if anything happens to me or to someone I care about, they will come after you. It's not too late for you to just leave. If not, all the GPD has will rain down on you."_

"_Is that all?" the Joker said, yawning. "You know what Lt. Benson, let it rain." _

"_NOOOOO!" the sound of a gunshot resonated through the room._

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"NOOOO! PLEASE NO!" Bruce was shaken awake by Olivia's screams of pure terror. Fully alert, he quickly did a sweep of the small apartment before realizing that she was asleep, but not in a good way.

"Liv, Liv wake up," he said, stroking her hair like Alfred had done to her back when they were kids and she had a nightmare. She tried to claw his eyes out in her sleep, so he shook her forcefully, which did the trick. Olivia shot upward, her eyes wide with fear and her shirt soaked with sweat. "Liv, it was just a nightmare." Turning her head, once their eyes made contact she burst into tears, squeezing the life out of him with a massive, desperate hug. "Shhh, Liv, it's ok." Bruce comforted, softly rubbing her back.

"You're alive," she gasped between sobs. "Thank God you're alive."

"What are you talking about Liv? Of course I'm alive."

She looked up at him, the tears streaming down her face. It broke his heart. "He killed you, the Joker did. He brought you into this apartment and pulled out a gun. I, I, I couldn't, couldn't…" Olivia couldn't continue because she burst into racking sobs again, burying her face in his shirt.

"Don't cry Olivia. It was just a nightmare. I'm fine and not planning to let the Joker kill me," he said with a chuckle, trying to pry her out of this mood. Little did he know she meant to say "I couldn't tell you how much I love you," rather than "I couldn't save you," like he thought.

Olivia, her face wet with tears, finally realized he was indeed alive, and the horrifying scenes were just a nightmare, playing on her worst fears. She took two deep, ragged breaths before sitting straight. "Thank you for that Bruce. I needed that."

"Hey, we're partners remember? That's what we do." He was slightly confused by the chuckle that followed. "What could possibly be funny?"

"Nothing; that's just how Elliot always puts it."

"I hope that's a good thing."

"Oh trust me Wayne, it is." She wiped her face and rose, feeling hungry after last night's ordeal. "You want some breakfast? I think I have something in this place that's edible."

"You don't have to Liv," Bruce replied, still concerned for his friend.

"Please, it's the least I could do for helping me through that nightmare," she said with complete honesty. "Yesss! Eggs, bacon, and pancake mix. You came here on a jackpot day Bruce."

"I just hope nothing is expired," he retorted, earning an irritated smirk from her.

Later they were sitting on the couch enjoying a home cooked Benson breakfast. "Damn Liv," said Bruce through a mouthful of eggs. "This is good. How did you learn how to cook?"

"Let's just say Uncle Alfred let me help around the kitchen when you were sleeping off a night of spelunking," she replied with a sidelong look.

"Well, all I can say is that you certainly are working your way up to his level of greatness in that field." She smiled and chewed on another piece of bacon. Looking back up, she saw that Bruce was staring at the TV, eyes wide with concentration. Puzzled, Olivia turned up the volume and a look of horror passed her face.

"…This video was released to GCN early in the morning, and beware. Like the last one, the image may not be suitable for children."

The GCN anchor room was cut to a feed from an abandoned art studio, the kiln blazing in the background. The camera seemed to be resting on a table; all of a sudden, it was picked up and the face of the Joker came into view. If it was possible, he looked even more menacing than in her dream. "Is it on? It's on? Ok. Goooood Morning Gotham!" he said, mimicking Robin Williams in _Good Morning Vietnam._ "I hope you had a good night's sleep [_licks side of mouth_]. I'm sorry for yesterday's scare regarding the school. That was over the top, but it did serve to draw out the cops to exactly where I wanted them. Am I right detectives?"

The Joker turned the camera to reveal Goren and Eames, tied up and gagged. Olivia's hands reached her mouth, a low wail escaping her lips. The madman giggled and jutted the camera into the Goren's face. "Get away from him you asshole!" yelled Eames, looking as if she wanted to claw his eyes out. 'Good for you Alexandra,' Olivia thought, knowing how protective she was of her partner.

"That's not very nice detective," scolded the Joker, walking over to the kiln. He pulled a red-hot wire hanger and pressed it to her face, causing Eames to scream out in pain, making both Bruce and Olivia wince. The Joker was escalating, though this was probably calculated on his part. He wasn't just some ordinary monster and they knew it.

"Don't hurt her! Kill me instead!" screamed Goren over his partners labored breaths.

The Joker giggled. "And we get to the main point of this little demonstration," he said, tapping Goren on the head. He took the camera and looked into it, preparing a monologue. "Batman and Batgirl, Benson and Stabler, and now Goren and Eames. What do they all have in common? That's right, they're partners. You see, partners when cornered, will lash out more furiously than expected to protect the other." In a sick sort of way, the Joker was right on the button, thought Bruce. He'd take massive, unadvisable risks to save Olivia that he wouldn't do alone.

Oblivious to Bruce's train of thought, the Joker continued. "Realizing this, I got to thinking. The Batman and Batgirl probably are resisting my requests because of their need to protect each other. Therefore, I'm going to eliminate that. From now on, I'm changing my little ultimatum. Now, only one of them needs to turn themselves in; the other will get off scott free." He looked at the floor for a moment, then turning his eyes back up. "Oh, that doesn't mean that people won't die. Quite the opposite I might add. It's time all of you understand the true price of harboring these vigilantes. You thought the deaths of Commissioner Munch and Judge Donnelly were horrifying, get ready for what's to come, and remember, the Batman and Batgirl have no excuses now. Tick tock Gotham, tick tock." He erupted into more giggles, dropping the camera onto the floor. Before the feed went black, blood-curdling screams were heard, blood splattering on the floor.

"I regret to say," droned the news anchor, "That detectives Goren and Eames were found dead this morning. Now the question is what the Joker's next move is, and will he spring it at Commissioner John Munch's funeral later today?"

Olivia shut off the television, and icy pit forming at the base of her stomach. The calls for them to turn themselves in would only get worse after today, especially with the Joker's announcement that only one of them do it.

Swallowing, Bruce glanced in Olivia's direction, seeing her in deep thought. "Don't even think about it Liv!" he yelled, knowing what was going through her head.

"What are you talking about Bruce?" she replied, stunned at his tone. He never yelled like that, except when he became protective.

"I know you too well Olivia. You are thinking of doing the selfish thing and turning yourself in. Don't you even dare!"

"Or what?" she scoffed. "I'm a grown woman Bruce! You don't own me; what gives you the right to make these demands of me?"

'Because I care about you! More than you'll ever know.' He just couldn't bring himself to say that. He was sure it would ruin whatever friendship they had. "You are a strong, selfless woman Olivia. You have so much to offer the world; you don't deserve to rot in prison for my mistakes. If there is anyone who deserves that fate it's me. I have no real contribution to this world."

All of a sudden, he felt Olivia's palm collide with his face. "Don't you say that Wayne! There is no way I'm letting you kill yourself like that! How could you even think of doing this to the people you love?"

"I'm not. Just promise me that you won't give in to the Joker's demands."

"I promise, only if you promise as well."

"Ok," said Bruce, knowing that if it came down to it, he'd make the ultimate sacrifice. He didn't deserve anyone's love and he knew it. Not only was he putting Olivia in harm's way, but also keeping Alex from a good life with Harvey (or stapling her to him for life). He would need to have a discussion with her later, finally working out their issues once and for all. He needed the certainty on way or the other.

"Good," Olivia whispered, giving him a genuine smile. She rose and went into the bedroom to change.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting ready for Munch's funeral."

"Don't go Liv. You could die." He couldn't believe that he was cautioning Badass Benson, but something in him was getting very protective of her.

She emerged in jeans and a tasteful green blouse. "Don't worry Bruce. I'm a big girl." She kissed him on the cheek and left the apartment, only then realizing what she had done. Her grin nearly broker her jaw.

Bruce stood stunned at the kiss, both that Olivia did it and at how good it felt. 'That settles it, the feelings I have are real.' He definitely had to have the talk with Alex, because this couldn't go on any longer. He knew with all he had however, that Olivia certainly didn't feel the same way. How could she?

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"I don't like this Oz. Not one bit."

"What's not to like?" asked Penguin, fiddling with his monocle.

"Are you kidding me?" spat Maroni, pacing back and forth. "We want both of them taken down. Now the Joker's going after just one!"

"Either one of them free is a threat to our holdings," observed Delia dryly. Of the Couple in Crime, Penguin figured her as the brains in the marriage. "You told us this was getting taken care of."

"It is I assure you. We are combining intricate maneuvering with unpredictable twists. The Joker and I are handling this. Trust me." The two relented and Penguin sighed with relief. 'You will all get yours soon, you all will.'

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Still giddy from the kiss, and shocked that she had been so bold, Olivia strode into the bullpen with a goofy smile on her lips. Only to disappear when she saw the faces of her coworkers. They were grieving for Goren and Eames, but there was also a desperation on their face, as if prepping for a mission. "What's going on?"

Elliot stormed out of his office and tossed her a Kevlar vest. "We know the Joker's next target."

"Who?"

"It's in today's paper," he replied, handing her the obituary section of the _Ledger_. There, occupying the whole page, was one for Mayor Garcia.

**A/N: And BOOM! My take on a Joker attack and a Hostage Video. Hope I did it justice.**

**Poor Bruce and Olivia, getting so close to each other but convinced the other doesn't agree. Bruce has definitely come a long way but how does Alex fit into this? Don't worry, I may be changing the entire emotional dynamic of TDK but it all leads back to the same road.**

**Next up, does the Joker kill the mayor? I think you know what'll happen, but what a ride!**

**Please Review!**

**PS: If any of you haven't seen **_**Black Hawk Down**_**, well you just have to see it.**


	13. Chapter 13: Mourning

**A/N: And hello all. I loved the reaction to the last chapter. Kudos to LaceNLeather24, Guest, and thejokersbrother for their awesome reviews. To ana, I'm sorry but it has to be done; she will be avenged though!**

**Now, the funeral of John Munch, which will feature a very non-funny clown. Blows will be traded, people will break down, Penguin will fight our heroes, and someone we all love will die ;)**

**Disclaimer: Do you see Batman at the 1-6? If not, I own nothing.**

**Please Review!**

Chapter 13: Mourning

"And that's all, thank you," said Elliot, wrapping up the press conference.

"Captain! Captain!" The reporters were like vultures when searching for a story. "Any word on how the Joker will be planning on targeting the mayor?"

"No comment."

"Lt. Benson? Do you have a statement?"

"Like he said, I have no comment," growled Olivia, trying to act nonchalant. Inside though, she was worried. _The Mayor; the Joker was going after the Mayor._ Olivia was sure that the upping the ante from the morning's video was legit (especially with the killing of Goren and Eames), but never did she expect this. How was the motherfucker going to pull it off?

When she said as much to Elliot, he gave her a nervous laugh as he fastened the buckles on his Kevlar vest. "Don't doubt the Joker Liv. If he wants to kill someone, he'll find a way to do so. We just have to be one step ahead of him."

"Haven't had much success on that so far," she replied, both for MCU and her night job. After sending a text to Bruce about the latest development, she wondered if his meeting with Fox would reveal a lead. They certainly could use one.

Elliot walked over to the entranceway and closed the door to his office quietly, his eyes shifty. Olivia had seen this behavior before, always when he was getting ready to discuss something top secret. "Liv, whatever is said here does not go outside this room, do you understand?" She nodded. "Ok, I have a plan to flush out the Joker…"

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"All by yourself today Mr. Wayne?" asked Lucius Fox, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm afraid so Mr. Fox. There is a funeral for the Police Commissioner today."

Fox nodded his head sadly. "I know, tragic isn't it? I'm certain neither you, Miss Benson, nor I thought any of this would happen. It was said that a battleplan never survives contact with the enemy, and this is a variable we have not figured planning this I'm afraid."

"You always have a good take on events Lucius. Hopefully, what you are about to show me can give us an edge. So what have we've got?"

"Look here," Fox pointed to the screen, adjusting his reading glasses. "I analyzed the bullet samples you gave me. 9mm Parabellum round, very common indeed." The computer displayed a jumbled mess, sort of like a jigsaw puzzle from hell. "It took a while to reconstruct the main round because of the fragmentation; cinderblock does one heck of a number to the jacketed 9mm round. But here we go, a perfect reconstruction." Fox tapped the computer screen in triumph.

"Excellent work, now what about the round recovered at the Joker crime scene?"

"Ah, that was trickier." A second jumbled mess appeared on the screen, this one in far worse condition that the test round. "Most people think ammunition is long lasting. It isn't. Whoever used this was an idiot with regards to proper storage techniques. The round was corroded far beyond the normal amount, making it far more difficult to reconstruct."

"So you weren't able to do it?"

"I didn't say that. I just wanted to tell you how hard it was before I mention that my wife wants you to give me a raise." Fox gave him a wry grin, hoping to charm his way out of the joke.

Smirking, Bruce shook his head slowly. "Take it up with payroll Lucius. Now can you show me the round?"

"Impatient are we? Fine," he tapped a key, rearranging the pieces into a 3D model of a 9mm bullet, revealing a full thumbprint.

"There," said Bruce, clenching his fists in joy now that they finally had a lead. "That's the thumbprint left when he pushed the round into the clip. How well did you recover it?"

"Enough to do a ten point match, which is near gold in a court of law. However, I doubt either you or Miss Benson will involve one now do I?" Fox's smirk faded as he remembered what Stuckey had told him before the whole Joker fiasco started. "Excuse me Mr. Wayne. Did you reassign R&D?"

If Bruce was caught off guard, he didn't show it. "Yes I did. It's a telecommunications project with Israel, for their intelligence network."

"I wasn't aware of any outstanding Wayne Enterprises contracts with the Mossad."

"Look Lucius," said Bruce, not wanting to divulge his plan beyond him and Olivia. "I'm playing this one pretty close to the chest. I trust you with my life and so does Olivia. I want to know if you can trust us with this?"

Not sure of what to make of this, Fox agreed. "Alright; good luck with your ongoing investigation." As Bruce left, Fox wondered if he had made the right call. Bruce had assured him that there was nothing going on and he always had the best intentions. Then again, a lot of the most evil acts in the world had been done with the best intentions. "What have you gotten yourself into Lucius?'

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"Hello; this is Nick Ganzler, live on Grand Street for the funeral of Police Commissioner John Munch. While we all mourn for the dedicated career policeman, the question we are all wondering is whether the Joker will make good on his threat in the Obituary column of the _Ledger_ to assassinate Mayor Garcia, and if he strikes, will the Caped Crusaders or Elliot Stabler's security apparatus stop him? With no word yet from either the Joker or Batman and Batgirl, these cops have to be nervous of the unknown variable, namely whether this threat is real or just another red herring as was the school bombing threat yesterday afternoon."

The procession began with the horse-drawn casket containing the body of John Munch, coffin draped with the flag of the city. Then came the police department official band, playing bagpipes and drums considering the somber occasion. Behind was the main line of Gotham's public officials: Mayor Garcia, Harvey Dent, Alex Cabot, the entire City Council, several federal and state officials, and the like. Behind them were line after line of uniformed GPD brass: fellow officials, Captains, Chiefs, former friends of the commissioner, the works. The entire city had turned out on the sides to salute one of their eccentric heroes; though low key for his entire term, John Much had been in the public spotlight on more than one occasion. His work on the Sara Logan rape case made him a local celebrity, and many came to pay their respects despite the Joker's threat.

Keeping watchful eyes like guard dogs, the men and women of the Major Crimes Unit were angry, and rightfully so. For a tight family like them, losing two from their ranks was a personal insult, and they wanted blood, preferably clown blood. Even with this anger however, they were scared. The Joker was crafty and had escaped the detection nets time and time again. He was like the ever present specter; appearing out of nowhere, delivering a high profile attack, then slinking away while they were still reeling. It was taking a toll on all of them, especially the commanders.

"Is team one in position?" asked Elliot into his radio.

"All clear sir," replied sniper team one, manning the west bank of buildings.

"Team two?"

"We're good, nothing suspicious over."

"Liv, are things clear at the stage?"

"Everything is fine here El. We've got this place locked down tight."

Elliot glanced upward at the sky." Eye in the sky, how 'bout you?"

The helicopter containing two M-249 SAW machine gunners hovered over the skyscrapers of eastern Gotham, scanning the rooftops. "No sign of the clown on the top sir. If he's going to attack, he ain't doing it up here."

"Still, keep your eyes open. Over and out."

The procession continued to the stage in front of city hall, the line of cops turning a left face to face the Rabbi. It had come as quite a shock to Olivia when the first thing in her former Captain's will was to request an Orthodox service. She was sure that the cop and full-time conspiracy theorist was not very religious at all. Well, when you didn't wear your faith on your sleeve (as opposed to highly devout people like Elliot), it was easy to assume you had none.

"Good Afternoon, and welcome," began the Rabbi. "We come here to mourn and honor the passing of John Isaac Munch, who has left this world for the next. Though we here are of many faiths, may I recite the Kaddish of burial." Though not Jewish, Olivia bowed her head in prayer. "_Yitgaddal veyitqaddash shmeh rabba_…"

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In the temporary Batcave, Bruce and Alfred were hard at work, just like the early days of the Batman before Olivia was in the picture. 'How did I ever survive the loneliness?' Bruce thought. He was convinced that without Liv's support and kind demeanor with regards to him, he'd have cracked a long time ago, a bitter and lonely man holed up in Wayne Manor.

"So while you go on a less concealed fishing expedition, what shall I do Master Wayne?" asked Alfred, sitting at the computer console. He may have been old, but damned if he'd be one of those cliché old people who were unable to operate anything more complex than a typewriter.

"Cross reference the fingerprint found on the bullet with anyone in the DNA database. Focus on criminals with known history of violent crime."

"Any particulars?"

"Narrow the field to people with addresses on Grand Street overlooking the parade." Grabbing his mint condition Harley Davidson motorcycle out of the holding container, Bruce guided it to the elevator, kicking the stand to keep it still."

"I've got one!" yelled Alfred. "Peter Harrison, one of Olivia's old cases from SVU. Convicted of aggravated assault of a woman tourist from Kansas and sentenced to three to six years in Arkham. Address is 158 Randolph Apartments, West Grand Street."

"Thanks Alfred," called out Bruce just as the elevator cut him off from the HQ. Pressing an inconspicuous looking garage door opener, the doors of a shipping container swung open. Straddling the Harley, he kicked it into gear and zoomed out, destination Grand St.

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After the Rabbi finished the Kaddish, he turned the mike over to Munch's close friends and loved ones. Olivia spoke, then Elliot, then Munch's widow, and so on and so forth. They had reached the Mayor when Olivia received a text message. She opened it: _Inspecting the Randolph Apartments. Fingerprint matched._

She quickly typed a reply with no one noticing: _Be careful; don't go to any of the windows or the snipers will kill you._ Olivia then deleted the messages, the advanced scrubbing technology Fox had installed making it disappear forever.

Receiving the text, Bruce turned off the engine and backed the Harley into an alley near the police barricade. Not wanting to be noticed, he pretended like he was supposed to be there, a surefire way of going inconspicuously. Arriving at the entrance to Randolph Apartments, which thankfully wasn't a doorman building, Bruce removed the same device he had used on Olivia's apartment and broke in, leaving no trace for the tenants to suspect anything. It was dangerous traveling without the Batman suit, but in a crowded street in the daytime, being Bruce Wayne was less likely to draw notice.

"Commissioner Munch," began Mayor Garcia, "Dedicated his life to Law Enforcement, and the betterment of society," he said with a fake concerned tone. Olivia rolled her eyes. 'What a blowhard. He doesn't give a shit about Munch, only about his popularity ratings,' she thought, like most inner city politicians. The Mayor continued on with his speech. "I remember when I first took office and asked him if he wanted to stay on as police commissioner, he told me that the only one who could get him out was the CIA, and they'd have to fight him for it." The entire crowd laughed, for that was typical Munch.

"Here we go," whispered Bruce to himself as he reached the right apartment. Twisting the knob through his gloved hands, he found it unlocked surprisingly. Entering, he found five men stripped and tied around a column, mouths taped and eyes covered.

"He was not a man who minced words nor should he have been."

Elliot kept a keen eye on the buildings, knowing the Joker was going to strike. While the clown was unpredictable, his gut was telling him that there would be at least some attempt at the Mayor's life.

"Some of the policies he enacted were controversial, ones that flooded my office with angry calls and letters…"

Bruce bent down next to one of the men, removing his gag but not his blindfold. "Hello? Thank god you're here, whoever you are."

"Who did this to you?" asked Bruce in his Batman voice.

"It was him, the Joker. He took our guns, our uniforms…"

"We must remember that vigilance is the price of safety. Thank you."

With the speeches over, the attention went to the police honor guard. "Honor Guard, attention! Ready; Aim; Fire!" A volley went in the air.

Walking to the window, Bruce found a telescope pointing at the honor guard. "Shit!" His mind made the connection; whipping out his cell phone, he knew he had to warn Liv immediately.

However, an egg timer by the window shade dinged, causing it to rise quickly. A sniper on the other building fired off three quick rounds just as the honor guard did, causing Bruce to back away from the window.

"Ready!" Elliot's eyes were drawn to the leftmost man in the honor guard. "Aim!" He noticed the prominent facial scars on his cheeks. 'The Joker!'

"Fire!" The entire Honor Guard swiveled around, aiming for the Mayor still standing on stage. Just as they fired, Elliot charged and shielded the Mayor with his body. Dropping their guns, the Joker and his men melted into the crowd, except for one whom Olivia took down with a shot to the leg (A/N: _She is Badass Benson after all_). She then bent down over Elliot's lifeless form. "Oh El, why did it have to be this way?"

As the SWAT teams barreled through the crowd to contain the panic with sporadic gunfire ringing out, Harvey Dent strode to the ambulance, face contorted with anger. He sat in the vehicle, taking in the pale, balding man in front of him. "Tell me what you know about the Joker."

The man smirked, eyes drifting down to his lapel. Harvey grabbed it and took a better look. His name tag read : ALEXANDRA CABOT. Eyes seeing red, he hijacked the vehicle, needing to protect the one he loved.

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"This is the worst part of the job,' thought Olivia as she walked up the steps of Elliot's brownstone. Normally, there would be more than one officer present, but she felt it was better that she go alone. Putting on her best comforting face, she knocked on the door.

"Olivia, nice to see you. Is everything alright?" Kathy's face changed from a smile to a frown. "What happened?"

"It's about Elliot Kath," she replied, watching her friend tear up.

"No. No, this can't be!" Kathy started sobbing uncontrollably, causing Olivia to give her a hug.

"Mom? What's going on?" Olivia looked over Kathy's shoulder to see all four of Elliot's kids standing there. "Oh God dad!" cried out Kathleen as all of them rushed forward to hug their mother, all crying now. Olivia was heartbroken for them.

Hearing a rustling above, Kathy looked up and saw the Batman. "You! This is your fault! You brought this suffering upon us! You did this! You and your partner did this!" Olivia rubbed her back soothingly, ignoring the anguished insults she directed unknowingly at her. The Mob was going to pay for this.

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The nightclub was the perfect place for a Maroni Family date night. It was loud, it was well guarded, and most importantly, Delia owned the place. For Penguin however, it was the worst hell on earth. "Sir," he asked Maroni, "Shouldn't we go someplace where we can talk?"

"What makes you think I want to hear you talk?"

"What?" squawked Penguin, even though he heard every word.

The entire upper level was then drawn to the sounds of a scuffle on either side of the catwalk. Quickly taking in the tactical situation, Penguin knew the Couple in Crime were toast. Batman and Batgirl were converging in the classic envelopment, smashing the Mob between a rock and a hard place. The elite mafia bodyguards were being thrown around like dolls, any blows made not fazing the caped crusaders.

Needing to keep up appearances (though he couldn't have cared less weather his boss received a good B&B drubbing), Penguin sent his goons to deal with Olivia while he leapt into action against Bruce, showing surprising agility for a man of his stature. Shrieking like an eagle, he jabbed his umbrella sword forward, engaging Bruce in furious hand to hand combat.

Olivia, facing four against one odds, smashed one across the face with her nightsticks, shooting another with the stun darts. When the other two lunged at her, she leapt in the air, swinging underneath the catwalk and catching them from behind.

Dodging furious blows that would have defeated any weaker man, Bruce finally got a good shot at Penguin, giving the underboss a right hook to the gut. Stumbling back, Bruce charged but the mobster dove off the catwalk, his umbrella acting like a parachute. Deposited on the dance floor, he waddled out of the club with his mocking "Nuck, Nuck, Nuck," audible over the music.

No guards left, Bruce grabbed Maroni by the scruff of his collar. While Olivia walked to his side. "You don't mind if we borrow your husband Mrs. Maroni?" she said in a sweet yet intimidating growl.

Delia shook her head. "Nope, just bring him back in once piece."

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"Hand me those DD5s," said Alex over the din. The 1-6 was a madhouse, worse than usual. Elliot was dead and Olivia was a no show, likely out with Bruce. Briscoe was running things, but they were short-staffed from the Joker Killings. In addition, Alex was worried about Harvey, who she hadn't seen since the Joker's men crashed the funeral.

The buzzing of her cell phone interrupted her thoughts. "Hello."

"Alex, thank God you're alright!"

"Harvey, what's going on? Where are you?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm at MCU trying to deal with this mess like you should be." Fin walked in with a stack of files. "Excuse me, can I get the fingerprint analysis please."

"You can't stay Alex, it's not safe."

"Please this is Elliot and Olivia's unit."

"Is Olivia there with you?"

"No but…"

"She's not there and Stabler's gone."

"He vouched for these men…"

"And he's gone." Alex suddenly was scared, knowing Harvey was at least on to something. "The Joker's named you next on his kill list. God is there anyone out there we can trust?"

There was Olivia, but her apartment was in no way secure. That left only one logical choice. "Bruce, we can trust Bruce Wayne."

"No Alex, I now he's your friend but…"

"Trust me Harvey, Bruce's penthouse is now the safest place in the city."

Taking a deep breath, Harvey answered. "Ok Alex, go there now, and tell no one. Stay there until I call you. I love you Alex." He hung up and stuffed the phone in his pocket, taking in the alley that he was now in. Hearing a whimper, he looked at his prisoner, tied up in a chair in front of him. "So friend, let's have a talk."

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"We want the Joker!" growled Bruce, not in the mood for games. "Penguin would be good to, but it's him we want, so talk!"

Smirking, Maroni wasn't scared. "Look my friend," he said smugly, "From one professional to another, if you want to threaten me, pick a better spot. The fall from this height?" He shrugged, "It won't kill me."

Olivia grinned viciously. "Counting on it." Smirking Bruce dropped Maroni off the railing.

Screaming, the Mob boss toppled two floors before impacting feet first on the ground, breaking one leg and spraining to other. Leaping down to join them, Bruce and Liv landed on the pavement, striding over to Maroni who was moaning and clutching his legs. Bruce grabbed him by his collar once more. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," choked Maroni, breathing heavily. "We never did, he found us."

"He must have friends," remarked Olivia.

"Friends? Have you met this guy?"

"Penguin knows where he is!"

"Look lady and gentleman, you are welcome to ask him, but nobodies' going to tell you nothin'. If you want to find him, there's one way out. One of you can take off your mask and end this right now." Bruce released him with a grunt. "Or are you going to let a couple more people die before you make up your mind?"

"Shut up," spat Olivia, kicking Maroni's broken leg, causing him to scream in pain. Bruce however was lost in thought. He had promised Olivia that he wouldn't take the Joker's offer, but if it were to save her and other innocent lives…

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"Ok, let's try this again," growled Harvey, running a hand through his dark, blonde hair in frustration. "Where is the Joker?"

The captured man rocked back and forth in the chair. "Francine needed to be saved. He promised to help me."

His anger getting the best of him, the DA took out a revolver, firing in the air. Harvey pressed the warm barrel to the man's forehead, the hot metal searing his flesh. "You want me to?"

"You wouldn't," mumbled the man in a slight southern accent, maybe Louisiana Bayou.

"Wouldn't I?" he screamed. "You don't think I will huh?" The man just stared into Harvey's eyes, looking like he would pee himself. "You're right, I wouldn't. I'm not like your boss, so that's why I'm not going to leave it up to me." He pulled out his trusty coin, displaying it prominently. "Heads, you keep your head; tails, not so lucky." Tossing it in the air, Harvey watched as it landed straight on his hand, coming up heads.

The henchman smiled nervously, knowing he'd cheated death. "Feeling lucky are we?" smirked Harvey. "Let's go again."

"I don't know anything!" he screamed. "I don't know! Don't kill Francine please, I don't know." He began to sob, whimpering between tears.

"You're not playing the odds friend. Let's go again." Harvey gave him one last look before tossing the coin into the air, readying his arm to catch it.

It tumbled airborne but was caught midair by a gloved, feminine hand. "You'd really leave a man's life to chance?" growled Olivia, looking at Harvey with an angry glare (also known as the Badass Benson).

"Not exactly," replied the DA, knowing his tricks.

"I would pick a better subject if you're going to break the law councilor, rasped Bruce from behind him, throwing a file on the ground at Harvey's feet. "His name's Picard, Saul. He's a paranoid schizophrenic, former patient at Arkham. The kind of mind the Joker attracts. What do you expect to learn from him?"

Simmering, Harvey grabbed the lapel pin with Alex's name on it and ran after the two heroes. "He had this on his jacket," he seethed, handing it to Bruce and Olivia, who both inwardly gasped at the name. "The Joker killed Stabler. I can't let him kill the one I love!"

Realizing what he needed to do, Bruce looked up at Harvey, not making eye contact with Olivia. "You are the symbol of hope we can never be. Your stand against the Gang of Seven is the first legitimate ray of light to shine on Gotham in decades. If this here became public, all the criminals you put away would be released. Elliot Stabler would have died for nothing!" Harvey looked at the ground, knowing the Batman was right; he had let his anger and fear rule him. He knew that Alex would be ashamed. "Tomorrow, you are going to hold a press conference with Lt. Olivia Benson of MCU."

"Why?" asked Harvey and Olivia at the same time, confused.

"I will turn myself in to the entire world; no one else will die because of me." With that he handed Harvey the coin and turned and left. Olivia stood shocked for a moment, then following him to the Tumbler.

"You can't give in!" cried Harvey from behind them. "YOU CAN'T GIVE IN!"

As they reached the Tumbler, Olivia stormed in front of Bruce. "Liv," he called out to her, knowing she was upset. "Liv." He reached out his and to touch her shoulder, causing her to turn her head. Bruce recoiled at the pure venom in her eyes.

"You lied to me," she growled.

**A/N: Damn, cliffhanger! What will Liv and Bruce argue about?**

**That was intense, but there will be some big emotional moments later, including a conversation between Bruce and Alex and Olivia and Alex.**

**I hope all of you remember Saul Picard from Blinded, for he was the top candidate for the henchman Harvey caught.**

**Please Review, and stay tuned for another update Wednesday. **


	14. Chapter 14: Martyr

**A/N: Greetings from 30000ft in the air. Currently writing this on a plane as a way to pass the time.**

**This chapter is for my newest reviewer, katechoco**

**To pick up where we left off, Olivia is very angry with Bruce, he's planning on turning himself in, and Alex is headed to the penthouse. Penguin is up to no good as always, and the Joker, who knows what he's up to.**

**Just remember, I'm changing the underlying emotional dynamic of TDK in order to fit with the plotline. Hope it works for you guys.**

**Disclaimer: Please Dick and Chris, can I have them please?**

**Review!**

Chapter 14: Martyr

Riding the elevator toward the penthouse, Bruce leaned on the side of the elevator, a tear flowing down his cheek. The scion of the powerful and incorruptible Wayne Family was normally as tough as steel, but it wasn't every day that he felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest.

Sighing, he reminisced about his fight with Olivia earlier that evening after talking to Harvey Dent:

_Olivia stripped off her suit, dropping it on the floor of the HQ with a thud, her face contorted in a snarl. He had never seen her so mad, not even with one of her child molestation cases. "Liv, please, talk to me."_

"_What is there to talk about?" she hissed, the venom practically oozing out of her voice. "You are breaking your promise to me and destroying your life for nothing. NOTHING!" The word echoed through the cavernous HQ._

_Running a hand through his hair, clad in nothing but a t-shirt and tight-fit pants, Bruce's heart broke at the hidden sorrow beneath all the anger in his best friend. She might have been able to hide her emotions from most people, but he saw right through them. "I can't let more people die because of me. The Joker wants one of us, so let me give him what he wants so that some hardworking father can live."_

"_If you think the Joker will stop there you're as nuts as he is! Criminals like that don't just stop Bruce, it isn't in their nature."_

"_If I save just one person then it would have been worth it Liv."_

_Biting her lip as if trying to suppress a statement, she shut her eyes tight to prevent the tears welling in them from escaping. "Damn you Wayne," she said softly. "Why do you have to be so fucking selfless?"_

"_I do because my life is worth nothing. I have nothing to live for besides this."_

_Eyes wide, Olivia looked up with an expression of pure hurt on her face. "How can you say that? HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?" she thundered, her anger returning. 'How dare he say that!' "What about the people who care about you?"_

"_Alfred and Alex are better off without me Olivia. I've caused them nothing but grief." He looked away, not bearing to see Olivia's face. IT was true, but he cared about her too much to see her hurt._

"_They love you Bruce. They would never want you to destroy your life." She saw him shuffle his feet, barely holding it together. Even now, when he was being so stupid, she didn't want to hurt him but had to ask. "What about me?" He looked into her eyes, a look of shame. 'Shame? What could you be ashamed of?'_

"_It's the same with you Liv, only more so. I've put at risk and I shouldn't have done that."_

"_I knew the risks when I asked you to join. You have no blame at all."_

"_No Liv, I've held you back from anything that could make you happy. You deserve a life, a family. You don't deserve a broken shell of a man like me."_

"_How could you possibly think that? I, I, I," she wanted to say it, but couldn't. For some reason she just couldn't. "I care about you," Olivia finally stammered. "You are my best friend. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you."_

"_It goes both ways Liv, and that's why I have to do this. You deserve a life and I'm giving it to you. If there's just a chance the Joker will stop hunting you then I'll take it. That's how much you mean to me."_

_The tears were threatening to fall now; he cared about her this much, so much as he was willing to destroy his life. It was all too much for her to take. 'But he loves Alex.' Her mother's voice rang in her head. 'You are nothing! No one will ever love the whorish spawn of a pervert! You are worthless trash and will always be treated as worthless trash!' No, she would not cry in front of him. Not after this, never after this. "I can't do this." Olivia turned around in one last attempt. "Please don't do this Bruce."_

"_I have to."_

The words exchanged felt like it was being done in front of him. Deep down, despite his selflessness he knew that he was sacrificing himself to save Olivia, no one else. When it came down to it, she was all that mattered; he now knew that Alfred was right about his feelings. 'Is it love?' He shook his head in frustration. He just didn't know, but he could never act upon it. Olivia didn't love him back, and she didn't deserve him either. There was just no way.

With a ding, the elevator reached the private penthouse floor, accessible only to those with a key or permission from an occupant. Inside, standing by the window, was Alex. Although Bruce was emotionally and mentally exhausted from fighting with Olivia and physically exhausted from fighting with Penguin, he knew that this was a conversation he had to have. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to her.

"Hey," she whispered. "Harvey just called. He said the Batman was willing to turn himself in alone to the Joker."

"I have enough blood on my hands Alex. I don't want to have more or to have any spill onto Olivia."

"Do you seriously think the Joker will stop?" she inquired, keeping her tone soft. Alex could tell that Olivia had already given him a browbeating, and knew the best way to get answers of her own was to be gentle.

"Not especially, but I know what I'd have to be and what Olivia would have to be in order to stop men like him, and it scares me. If this is the only chance to save Liv and the people of Gotham from this madman and the terror he brings to all then I will take the risk." He sifted his gaze from her to the skyline, willing himself to ask the question he needed to ask. "Right after the Narrows Riots, when you said that we could be together when Gotham no longer needed Batman, did you mean it?" Honestly, he hoped she said no; she deserved more than him just like Olivia did, and if what he felt for Olivia was love then it was an evil act to string Alex along. If she meant it though, then he couldn't break her heart; it wasn't him.

Alex looked into his eyes, seeing the pain in them. She still wasn't sure; she loved Bruce but seemed to be falling in love with Harvey, but couldn't let this man suffer. He needed to know love from someone, and she was willing to bite the bullet until the day came when he found it somewhere else. "I did mean it Bruce."

Looking at her, he stepped forward and took her lips in a tender kiss, all the while wishing it were Olivia. She didn't love him though, he was sure of it, and he couldn't bear the thought of breaking Alex's heart. Ending the kiss, he strode off to bed, his mind a jumbled mess.

Alex's mind was going haywire as well. 'Did I do the right thing?'

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The jet black Lincoln towncar swerved into the unmarked warehouse. A guard opening the door for him, Penguin hobbled out, a bit winded from his fight with Batman. No one expected him to be good at hand-to-had combat, and that was his advantage in everything; he could fly under the radar as some freak, and no one was the wiser to his true intentions. "They're all fools," he muttered to himself, waddling into the warehouse.

"Evening Mr. Cobblepot sir," said the manager, a man who Penguin was fond of.

Now though, he was in no mood for pleasantries. "Cut the fucking greetings Jim. Has it come in yet?"

The manager beamed, motioning to a large container in the center of the room. "She just arrived this afternoon, straight from Sevastopol. You must have quite the pull in Russia."

"Well, let's just say that Aleksayev and Bushido will do anything to stay out of jail, Waugh, Waugh, Waugh." He snapped his fingers to the guards, motioning for them to open the doors. Doing so, he grinned at the sight inside; it may have been obsolete in its original function, but it would do nicely for the clown's plan. "Excellent; the Joker will be pleased, as am I.

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The bright expanse of the HQ seemed chillingly empty to Bruce for the first time since setting it up, even though they had only used about a tenth of the available space. As he packed away his and Olivia's armor and gear, he realized it was because Liv wasn't there anymore. Though she had never realized it, Bruce knew that his best friend always managed to lighten up even the darkest moods (unless she was in Badass Benson mode, in which case all bets were off). Remembering the pain on her face, he felt a stirring of guilt within himself. 'No Bruce, this is to protect her. If that psychopath gets one of us, it should be me.'

"Should I burn the logs as well sir?" asked Alfred, in the middle of tossing files into a massive furnace which would heat them to a fine ash.

"Yes, all of it. Get rid of anything that could lead back to Olivia, Alex, or Lucius. They don't deserve to suffer for my mistakes, especially Liv."

"Understood sir," said Alfred with a disappointed edge in his voice, something that wasn't unnoticed by Bruce.

"People are dying Alfred," he stated rather pleadingly, trying to make his surrogate father understand. "What would you have me do? It's either Olivia or me."

"There's a third option here Master Bruce, you can endure. Don't give in to this outlaw and neither should Olivia. Both of you should hold the line; stay firm against the inevitable storm. The people will hate you for it, but that's the point of Batman and Batgirl. They can be the outcasts, the dark antiheroes, and the ones society shuns but needs. That gives you two freedom to make the choice that no one else can make, the right choice. You think there's a false dichotomy between sacrificing yourself and sacrificing Olivia, but you're wrong. Find the Joker together and break the walls he had imprisoned you with."

"I'm sorry Alfred; today, I realized what Batman can't do. He can't endure this, watching as innocent citizens die and the ones I care about suffer because of my faults. Today, I guess you can say I told you so," he finished with a sad smile.

It took all of Alfred's inner strength to keep himself together. "Well today Master Wayne, I don't want to." Smiling and patting his ward on the back, the two men walked toward the vehicle lift that would take them to the surface. "But I did bloody tell you."

"You did Alfred, you did."

"I suppose they'll lock me up too sir, for being your accomplice and all."

"Are you kidding? I'm going to tell them that this whole thing was your idea."

"In that case, at least tell Miss Olivia not to put the handcuffs too tight. These wrists aren't what they used to be." Bruce chuckled at that.

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Staggering into the penthouse, Olivia looked like hell. She hadn't put on any makeup that morning, and her eyes were bloodshot from the crying and the booze she had guzzled to try and forget the pain and anguish from last night. 'Why Benson? Why couldn't you tell him you love him? He might have abandoned this ridiculous plan.'

"Olivia? My God you look awful." Olivia looked up to see the reason of her hedging last night, her cousin and the woman Bruce was in love with, Alex.

"Trust me, I've been through worse." She smiled weakly, knowing it was a lie. The truth was, she had never felt worse in her entire life, even when she found out Bruce was missing ten years ago. "So I take it Bruce told you about the subject of today's joint press conference?" The media had been briefed beforehand of the DA's Office and MCU's plan to let the Batman turn himself in at One Police Plaza at three PM, where Lt. Benson would make the arrest.

Alex grimaced, knowing how sensitive the subject was to Olivia and wishing to avoid it. "Yes he did. Are you planning to go to the conference?"

"Well, when your boyfriend," she stressed the last word, "Asked me to be there, how was I to say no?" The dripping sarcasm and anger in her voice didn't bother her one bit. She was pissed at everyone, and beyond having to give a damn about how they thought of her.

Sighing, Alex stepped up to her cousin and gave her a hug, knowing that Olivia needed comfort more than she did (Bruce was in fact her best friend; no one denied the bond those two shared). The truth was, Alex hadn't slept either the entire night, agonizing over the decision she made last night. It tore at her conscience knowing that she wasn't entirely truthful to Bruce, knowing that while she did mean that she and he could be together before, now it might not be true. The entrance of the suave, dashing, and principled Harvey Dent changed everything, and Alex was sure that she loved him as well. Only the thought that it spared Bruce pain allowed her to keep her resolve. "It's ok Olivia, let it all out."

Not able to contain herself any longer, the usually proud Olivia Benson burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably in her cousin's arms. "Why does he have to do this? Doesn't he care about his loved ones or his friends?"

"He cares Liv, but Bruce knows that the lives of the innocents matter more. He's being selfless."

"No Alex, he's being completely and utterly selfish!" she spat, the rage in her voice muffled by Alex's shirt and the still raking sobs. "He has to know what he's doing to the people who love him, what he's doing to me…"

Alex's eyes widened in shock, completely stunned at that declaration. From Olivia's panicked gasp and her wrenching out of Alex's hug, she was petrified she said it too. "Liv. Are you in love with Bruce?"

The career police officer, cornered in a situation she was terrified to experience, bit her lip and gazed at the floor. "No, of course not," she said hesitantly.

The EADA wasn't buying it for a second. "Don't lie to me Olivia. Tell me the truth."

"I, I, I can't," Olivia stammered before turning and fleeing the penthouse before Alex could stop her.

Still stunned by her cousin's revelation, Alex collapsed on the couch. "Shit," she whispered, knowing this complicated an already fucked-up situation. 'Or did it?' Now that she thought about it, it made sense now why Olivia couldn't make a relationship work. It wasn't anything she was, but that her heart already belonged to another man, Bruce Wayne. Thinking back to last night, it was now obvious to Alex that Bruce loved Olivia as well, but those two fools were too stubborn to admit it. She should know, they grew up together.

It was now apparent that her original plan was the completely wrong thing to do. There could be nothing but terrible repercussions if she allowed herself to string Bruce along any more. She knew now that though she loved her friend, she was in love with Harvey and no one else. Though Bruce would have been devastated and broken if he did in fact love her, Alex knew that he loved Olivia instead and probably was denying it to protect her and thinking that Liv didn't deserve him (he had always had a bit of an inferiority complex ever since Skinner killed his parents). Everything was fucked up but Alex knew she had to fix it. Walking into Bruce's study, she grabbed a pen and paper and began to write a letter, knowing it was best to tell her friend on paper rather than in person.

_Dear Bruce…_

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"Good Afternoon Mr. Wayne."

Bruce, leaning back against one of the square columns of One Police Plaza, was jarred out of his thoughts. He turned his head to see the smiling redhead glancing at him. "Miss, uh, Novak right?"

"Yes Mr. Wayne, what are you doing here though? You aren't a reporter, a cop, or a city official. Why would you have an interest in being here in person rather than just watching it on TV?"

"You are very perceptive Miss Novak; I'm here for the same reason you are."

The redheaded philanthropist smirked. "And what do you suspect are my motives?"

"Protecting your investment, same as me. We both donated to Harvey's campaign and want to see our donations not go down the drain in case he does something."

"You think the great White Knight will try something silly?"

"He's more of an idealist than a politician, so it's not a fair assessment."

"Point taken Mr. Wayne, but no; I'm here because I'm genuinely curious as to who the Batman is, and if he is willing to turn himself in."

Bruce's gaze never left the stage as Harvey and Olivia walked in. "I think he will."

Casey's eyebrow raised up. 'And how do you possibly know that?" she asked genuinely.

"I've been told I'm very perceptive, as have you." Noticing Casey didn't respond, his eyes shifted to Olivia, who was doing quite a good job of being stoic, but Bruce could see right through her. Despite the anguish he felt at seeing the woman he may have loved in pain, he reminded himself both that she couldn't have loved him back that way, and that he was doing this for her.

"Ladies and gentlemen," began Harvey, cutting off all conversation in the room. "Welcome to 1PP and thank you for coming. I called this press conference for two reasons. First is, to assure you and the public that Major Crimes and the District Attorney's office is doing all in their power to respond to and end the Joker Killings." The scoffs and eye rolling coming from the audience belied their doubt and skepticism. Taking a deep breath, Harvey continued, "Secondly, I want to announce that the Batman is willing to accept the Joker's offer and turn himself in, but let's think about this for a moment." Both Bruce and Olivia raised an eyebrow, looking at each other, having a conversation with their eyes.

"What is Harvey doing?"

"I have no idea Bruce."

"Do we really want to be seen giving in to this terrorist's demands? Wouldn't this invite every nut and psychopath to kill publicly in order to receive something from the government?"

"Are you saying that you would protect outlaw vigilantes over the lives of citizens?" asked a reporter from CNN. A chorus of clapping showed the crowd was on her side.

"I agree, the Batman and Batgirl are outlaws, but that's not why we want one of them to turn themselves in. We are doing it now not for reasons of law and justice but rather out of fear. We have been happy to let them clean up our streets until now…"

"Things are worse than ever!" shouted another reporter.

"The night is always darkest just before the dawn. One day, the Batman and Batgirl will answer for what they've done, but on our terms, not the Joker's."

The room was quiet for a moment, letting the words sink in. For a moment, Olivia thought that Harvey's speech swayed the crowd. "No more dead cops!" chorused a protective uniformed detail.

"He should turn himself in!" cried anther reporter.

Harvey, his jaw tensing, nodded and stepped away from the lectern. "Ok then." He turned toward Olivia. "Lieutenant, take the Batman into custody." All were a bit confused, none more than Bruce and Olivia. Sensing the mood, Harvey turned to once again face the crowd. "I'm the Batman." The media uproar was instantaneous as Olivia, completely confused yet relieved by all of this, cuffed the DA.

"Mr. Dent, is this a ploy?"

"What motivated you to put on the cape?"

"Who is Batgirl?"

"I did not expect that," said Casey. "What is his plan?"

Bruce took a moment to collect himself before looking at the philanthropist. "You don't think he's telling the truth."

"Dent as Batman, I don't see it. Whoever the caped crusaders are, they should thank the DA for this."

Looking at Olivia, who was leading Dent away, Bruce was determined now to get the Joker once and for all.

Olivia smiled, seeing the fire in Bruce's eye. Her friend the Batman was back.

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"Alfred," shouted Alex, slinging her handbag over her shoulder.

"Miss Cabot," replied the butler, stopping what he was doing. "I take it you saw the press conference."

"Why did Bruce and Olivia let Harvey do this?" she asked angrily. She loved Harvey and didn't want him hurt even if it was the right thing to do.

"Perhaps Master Wayne, Miss Olivia, and Mr. Dent realized that Batman and Batgirl are more than just masks, able to be manipulated at the whims of a terrorist Miss Cabot, even if the world hates them for it." Though he wished the two people he considered his children would try and find a life beyond their personas, he was proud of them. "They're not being heroes, but something more."

"Yes," replied Alex sarcastically, "Letting Harvey take the fall is not heroic at all." Inwardly sighing, Alex knew she wasn't really mad at Bruce and Olivia. Deep down she knew they'd find a way to save the day as always. Her anger was with Harvey, for risking his life before she had the chance to give him the answer to his question. Alfred however, didn't realize any of this (A/N: _Very important; remember_). "You know them better than anyone besides the other. Will you please give Bruce this for me," she handed Alfred an envelope "When the time is right."

"How will I know?"

"Don't worry, it's unsealed; you'll know the right time. Goodbye Alfred." Alex hugged him and left to confront her boyfriend.

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Alex burst into the bullpen of the 1-6. "Where is Lt. Benson?" she asked the first detective she saw, at this time being Jim Gordon.

The detective looked up from tying his bootlaces, difficult to do when clad in full SWAT gear. The Lt. didn't want the convoy traveling without one of their own, so naturally the rookie drew the short straw to ride with the prisoner van. 'Barbara is going to be so pissed when she hears about this,' he thought, convinced he was about to become Joker chow. "She left to handle some personal business. Sgt. Briscoe is in charge, but he's downstairs."

"No problem," replied the EADA, happy to know Olivia was on the case; "personal business" was her code for Batgirl business. "Where is Harvey?"

"The DA is in the holding cell. Detective Beck is bringing him down for transportation to County right now."

'Shit!' thought Alex, the Joker was bound to get them now.

In the corner of her eye, Harvey appeared, led by Dani to the elevator. "Hey baby," he grinned, flashing his awe-shucks look. "Sorry I couldn't tell you of this in advance."

"What do you think you are doing?" she asked, running to keep up.

"Getting transferred to central holding in County," he replied to his obviously angry girlfriend as they went down the stairwell to the loading dock. "The Joker will come out of hiding to get me, allowing the Batman and Batgirl to take him down, a simple baited trap."

"Yes Harvey, but I don't want you to be the bait." Emerging onto the loading area, Briscoe and Fin led about half of the cops in a round of applause for the DA, while the rest simply shook their heads at how stupid he was being. "I know they'll try to save you but what about your safety? What about the people who are depending on you to clean up the city and to do it honorably…"

The DA cut her off with a passionate kiss, not sexual but merely an expression of his love for her. "I know you worry," he panted after thy broke apart, needing to breathe. "But trust me, I'll be fine." He tipped her a wink.

"Harvey," pleaded Alex, "Just tell everyone the truth."

"Heads I go through with it." He grinned and flipped his coin, Alex catching it in her hand as it landed on heads.

"This is your life Harvey. You can't leave it to chance."

"I'm not…" he said as Gordon shut the rear door.

She inspected the coin, finding out it had two heads; classic Harvey. "You make your own luck," she smirked, praying he'd be alright and that Bruce and Olivia would find him before the Joker did.

Jim Gordon jumped into the front seat opposite the driver. "Ok buddy, the escorts are ready and the streets are blocked off. You ready?" The driver gave the detective a thumbs up. "Let's hit it!"

'With luck,' thought the driver, his face concealed behind a gas mask, 'The Joker would show up.'

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The traffic control officer had just about had it with the asshole behind him. Manning the roadblock on 5th street, not five minutes after setting it up did this eighteen wheeler waltz in and blare his horn, doing it nonstop for the past fifteen minutes. 'Polite be damned.' He got out of the squad car and stormed to the driver.

"Hey, you wait your turn like everybody else pal!"

The Joker appeared out of the back chambering a shotgun, firing a load of buckshot into the officer's chest.

**A/N: And BOOM goes the dynamite. Hate to give you a little taste of the action to come, but it was just too much fun. MMWWAAHHAAA!**

**What did Penguin get for the Joker? Who's the driver? And how will Bruce and Liv fight with two Batpods instead of one? Find out next time.**

**Please review!**


	15. Chapter 15: Fifth Street Blues

**A/N: Hello guys! Jetting off to Paris for two weeks; not psyched on going (Paris is one of the most overrated cities on the planet for an American tourist), but the folks want to go and they pay the college tuition, so…**

**So sorry for leaving you with a cliffhanger (I'm not sorry [**_**whispering**_**]). Now, we come to the big chase scene, and find out what Penguin got for the Joker. It will blow you away.**

**Disclaimer: GIVE THEM TO ME!**

**PS: I am a student of Military Arts, so any description of combat or weaponry I have in here is accurate.**

**Please Review!**

Chapter 15: Fifth Street Blues

Turning onto Fifth Street, the largest and most iconic of Gotham's streets alongside Grand, the convoy pressed on at a reasonable speed of thirty miles per hour. Safely encased in the armored hull of his BAE RG-33 (a mine-proof vehicle used by the US Army), Jim Gordon could only wonder what the Joker had in store for them. After all, it was pretty obvious that he'd be coming after Harvey Dent, especially after the stunt the DA pulled back there. For any reason, the GPD was not going to get caught with its pants down again. Not only did the RG-33 have three squad cars and a vanload of SWAT guarding it, but a Stryker APC (Armored Personnel Carrier) on loan from the National Guard was strategically placed to assist in case of a problem. "The Joker's in for a big surprise when he comes in. We might not even need Batman or Batgirl on this one." The Drive sighed inwardly; the rookie was a good cop but still had a lot to learn, especially to not underestimate the Joker.

In the lead squad car, the Sergeant spotted a flickering object in the distance. As they got closer, he made out the distinctive profile of two burning fire engines blocking the road. "Shit!" He picked up his radio calling the convoy commander in the SWAT van. "Uniform Six One, this is Uniform Six Three. Obstruction ahead, obstruction ahead!"

"Son of a bitch!" cursed the Captain in charge of the operation. There were two choices in front of him, turn right and take the winding side streets or head below. He chose the latter, figuring safety was in the quickest route. "Uniform actual, everyone divert onto Lower Fifth. I say again, divert onto Lower Fifth!"

"Lower Fifth?" remarked Gordon to the driver. "We'll be like turkeys on Thanksgiving down there. The lower part of Fifth Street was completely enclosed with many small alleys but no exits from the main entrance for nearly five miles. It was the kind of Ambush City that attackers dreamed of. The convoy passed the burning fire trucks, all witnessed by Harvey, who was not cuffed because no one considered him a flight risk (A/N: _I know in the film the van was windowless, but the vehicle I have here isn't_). It wasn't an auspicious start for the mission, but then again he wasn't planning on an uneventful one.

As the cars moved down the onramp into the Lower Fifth tunnel, none of them noticed a lone figure in a trenchcoat holding a burner cell phone to his ear. "This is Cub One; convoy has taken the main route Big Bad Wolf."

On the other end of the conversation, the Joker smiled. "Ok gentlemen [_licks side of mouth_]. "Let's catch us some piggys."

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Almost immediately after the entire convoy moved onto Lower Fifth, a large garbage truck appeared on the right of the rearmost squadcar. The officer inside honked the horn, telling the municipal employee to back off since this was a prisoner convoy. There were many in Gotham, and the general rule was to pull over and let them pass. When the garbage truck didn't move an inch away from him, the officer grabbed the receiver for the PA system. "This is the police. Pull over at once!" It was then that he noticed that the driver had a clown mask on. "FUCK!"

Peter Harrison (A/N: _The other bad guy from the episode Zebras_) grinned and smashed his bumper into the side of the squadcar. Having nearly four times the mass, the garbage truck effortlessly nudged it out of the way, the car careening into the median. The officer was the luckiest of the entire convoy.

The second car from the rear was smashed out of the way, Harrison hitting him with enough force to shred the entire rear of the vehicle. Both the cops inside were ok though, and they crossed themselves not believing their luck. Harrison picked up his radio. "Cub Two to Big Bad Wolf, two little piggys are taken out. Moving in on mother hog, out." He accelerated, hitting the back of the RG-33.

"Christ." Gordon felt the jolt as the garbage truck tried to shove him off the road. The RG-33 however, with its armor and general bulk, was far heavier than the squadcars and thusly was only jolted. "Get us out of here!' exclaimed the Detective to the driver just as Harrison rammed him again. "This is Uniform Six Two, requesting assistance over here. We've got company."

"Copy your actual Uniform Six Two," replied the Captain over the net from the SWAT vehicle directly in front of the RG-33. "We're coming to the rescue. Uniform Six One out." He turned to the back, filled with twelve heavily armed SWAT troopers. "Lock and load boys, the clowns have arrived."

"Let's kick their asses!" hooted one of the troopers, a sentiment echoed by the others.

"Alright, move over to the side and open the back doors… ARGH!" A massive eighteen wheeler collided with the van's side, sending it right into the Gotham River. The truck settled in the opposite lane, running over and sweeping aside cars that dared get in its way.

Gordon, grabbing a MP5 submachine gun and flipping it to full auto just in case, gave the truck a once over. It had the markings of a local amusement park, with the exact words "Laughter is the best medicine," with a big smiley face. "Three guesses as to who's in the truck," he remarked to the driver dryly.

As predicted, the hatch opened and the Joker was in plain view along with at least five of his clown henchmen. Hanging out of the trailer by holding onto a rope with his left hand, he raised his right and began peppering the RG-33 with a machine pistol, rounds bouncing off the armored hull with sparks showering everywhere. The cacophony inside was deafening, Harvey making a silent prayer that none of the rounds got through. "We're getting creamed here!" yelled Gordon into the receiver. "Uniform Six Six, get over here now!"

"Roger that Uniform Six Two, we're on the way. ETA seven minutes, out," replied the Stryker commander, turning his vehicle into a wide arc to head back to the entrance of Lover Fifth.

"Seven minutes! We could be dead in seven minutes," muttered Gordon. He did not want to die like this.

Having gone through two full magazines of ammunition, the Joker abandoned the machine pistol and grabbed his SPAS-12 shotgun, firing round after round of buckshot. While the machine pistol rounds had been more like forceful hail falling on a tin roof, the shotgun shells sounded more like a baseball bat hitting an iron trashcan. In some ways, it was worse than before. "These things are built for that right?" asked Harvey to his guard.

"Oh don't worry Mr. Dent. This cocksucker is designed to get through Iraqi IEDs. The Joker's going to need something with a lot more oomph to smash us."

Back in the trailer, the clown henchmen handed the Joker the distinctive tube launcher for an RPG-7 (rocket propelled grenade; built in the Soviet Union for use against armored vehicles). "SHIT! RPG!" Gordon was scared shitless, quickly rolling down the window to return fire when the anti-tank round lanced toward the first squadcar; however, since the design dated back to the sixties, the weapon wasn't as accurate as most modern rockets, and the warhead impacted with the road right behind the first squadcar, shredding its bumper. Cursing, the Joker shouted for his men to load another round.

"I didn't sign up for this!" yelled the man guarding Harvey as the Joker let loose another round at the first car. This one hit dead center, turning it into a ball of flame.

"And BOOM goes the dynamite! HA HA HA HA HA!" the Joker cackled, joined in by his clown henchmen.

Leaning out the window and pointing the MP5 across the hood of the RG-33 (A/N: _Jim Gordon is such a badass isn't he?_), Gordon let loose several bursts from the submachine gun, causing the Joker to fall back, a second RPG round shooting off toward the ceiling, dislodging a chunk of concrete. One of his men took a round to the gut. He shrieked and toppled out of the trailer, his body making a sickening crunch as it got run over by one of the truck's wheels. The others returned fire with AK-74 carbines, a furious gun battle developing between them and Gordon. When an M-60 machine gun was brought out on the Joker's side, the detective ducked back into the safe cocoon of the RG-33. "Penguin's been busy hasn't he," he breathed, for it didn't take a rocket scientist to deduce where the Joker got his advanced weaponry.

Getting another round loaded, the Joker took aim dead center for the RG-33 when the loud CRUMP of an explosion caused the round to go wild yet again, streaking away across the river. "First the cop and now this. What's with all the distractions?" he mumbled, peeking his head out of the truck to see the cause of his miss. The sight made him grin fiendishly. "And now the fun begins."

"Nice shot," remarked Bruce to his gunner, throttling the Tumbler to its max speed of sixty mph.

"Thanks," retorted Olivia from the gunner's seat. Both of them were relieved that they had gotten there in time before the Joker destroyed the entire convoy. For Olivia, she had more reasons than the obvious one. It had been quite the little adventure for her to slip out of MCU after arresting Harvey, her little quarrel with Bruce forgotten. Well, not quite, but now wasn't the time, for they had a psychopath to capture.

Barreling toward the RG-33, both Gordon and the Joker realized that the Tumbler was on track for a head on collision. "Get out of the way!" yelled the detective to the driver as he swerved just in the nick of time, the side of the Tumbler scraping about an inch of paint off the armored vehicle. Behind it, the garbage truck wasn't so lucky. Peter Harrison had no more than two second reaction time, using it to shield his face with his hands in the common human reflex, when the Tumbler smashed the truck head on. The cab was crushed between the Tumbler and the concrete ceiling, Harrison turned into a paranoid pancake.

Shrugging his shoulders, the Joker turned toward his men. "Ouch time," he quipped, giggling like a madman. He did it for so long that the other henchmen started in on it too, knowing that it was wise to go along with their boss. The Joker then suddenly stopped, picking up a pistol and shooting one man who didn't stop immediately. "Well don't just stand there!" he growled, "Give me another round!"

The Tumbler, built tough using the same style of armor as the M1 Abrams (though thinner for speed), was unscathed. Bruce and Olivia shared a relieved smirk before the Batman rocketed the baby into a tight turn, going back into the heat of the action.

"Ready Liv?"

"Am I ever not?" she answered with a grin.

Bruce let out a small chuckle before flipping a small switch. "Weapon's system online." The two seats flipped and pushed forward, settling them into their combat positions.

Meanwhile, back in the truck the Joker had finally managed to load another round, but the presence of other cars was proving to be an obstacle toward a good shot. Since the police hadn't considered Lower Fifth as a route in their planning, the road had not been cleared. Seeing the Joker tumble from a good firing position, Gordon felt that it was a blessing in disguise, but he wasn't about to count his chickens yet. The only options for the beleaguered vehicle at this point were to get topside for air support, the Stryker coming in, or Batman and Batgirl coming to the rescue. He was betting on option one at this point. "Let's go! Move!" he yelled at the driver.

"I have you now," whispered the Joker, finally getting a good fire position with his last round. He leveled the launcher.

"Hold on Liv!" shouted Bruce just as he kicked the vehicle into a rampless jump. The afterburner ignited and the Tumbler leapt over a station wagon, taking the RPG hit instead of the RG-33.

"You big beautiful motherfuckers! God bless ya!" hollered Gordon.

"Warning! Warning! Fuel line punctured. Automatic self-sealing offline." (A/N: _I call bullshit to having the Tumbler get taken out by an RPG-7. This is a primitive design that is in use by almost all of America's enemies, so any armored vehicle should be armored against one. I'm putting the Tumbler in the class of RPG-7 resistant vehicles_). Bruce pulled the vehicle into a quick stop while Olivia frantically underwent damage control proceedings, hitting the manual self-sealing function. "God I hope this works aaaand… Got it!" she yelled in triumph just as a massive, three-wheeled APC shot past.

"Uniform Six Two, this is Uniform Six Six. We are approaching your position and are prepared to assist. Over and out."

"You here that?" said Gordon to the driver. "The Stryker's here! Copy you actual Uniform Six Six. We have clowns armed with RPGs in the eighteen wheeler to our left."

"No problem," murmured the Stryker commander to himself. His baby was armored against anything this side of a tank. "Lou, hit 'em with the 50. Cal!" The gunner swerved the remote controlled Browning M2 machine gun into position, blanketing the truck with rounds that could punch through cinderblock. The Joker ducked while one of his men had his head burst open like a water melon, another clown henchman on the bed screaming. He didn't know it, but the driver of the rig was wounded too, his leg torn and bleeding profusely, a mortal if not immediately fatal wound. He could still control the truck, but he would slowly die.

"Ok, time to up the ante. Rabid, this is Big Bad Wolf. Let's show them what we got."

"Roger that, Rabid out." Daryl Kern (A/N:_ the serial killer from the episode Manhunt_) hooted and yelled to his two fellow crewmen. "Start her up boys!" As the RG-33, truck, and Stryker passed a small alleyway, form under a tarp burst a massive T-54/55 tank, made in the former Soviet Union and supplied to the Joker courtesy of Oswald C. Cobblepot himself. The T-54/55 ran over, or rather crushed into a pancake like heap of scrap metal, several cars while Kern maneuvered the turret and gun into position for a clean shot at the Stryker. "Gimme a sabot!" he shouted at the loader, who rammed the tungsten-tipped round into the breach.

"Uh, sir," said one of the Stryker's crew, seeing the monster in the periscope. The commander was wide-eyed, and desperately tried to swivel the APC's TOW missile launcher (A/N: _a wire-guided anti-tank missile used on US Military vehicles_) to bear on the T-54/55 but it was too late. At 40 yards, basically point blank range, the 100mm rifled gun belched flame, sending the armored piercing discarding sabot round hurtling toward the target. Shedding its casing immediately after firing, the 40mm tungsten alloy dart impacted with the Stryker, punching through its armor like it was cardboard. The APC brewed up in a gout of flame, Daryl Kern taking smug satisfaction in it.

"Whoever said the pen was mightier that the sword never saw a tank. HA HA HA HA HA…" the Joker laughed.

Sensing the destruction of the Stryker through his peripheral vision, Gordon raised the rear trooped on his radio. "What's going on back there over?"

The trooper was pissing his pants. "The Joker's got a fucking tank!"

"TANK! DID YOU SAY TANK?"

Kern was about to aim for the RG-33 when he saw small explosions appear around the tank. "You have some company back there Rabid." Kern swiveled the periscope and spotted the Tumbler.

"Oh you are dead now Batfuckers! Let's turn up the heat with HEAT!" (High explosive anti-tank) While the loader slammed the round home, Kern moved the turret to aim dead center with the Tumbler's cockpit. "Goodbye assholes," he smirked through his grizzly beard.

At the last moment, Bruce put the Tumbler into a wide arc. The HEAT round as a result slammed into the rear engine compartment, the white-hot flame jet ruining the motor and the rear wheels. The beast flipped over twice before settling in an alley by a group of construction workers. Shaking off the disorientation, Bruce glanced over at his partner. "Liv you ok?" She wasn't moving. "LIV!" he yelled, shaking her forcefully. 'No, you can't be dead! I can't lose you!'

After the third shake, her eyes suddenly burst wide open, Olivia gasping for breath. "Thank God. Don't ever do that again."

"I'm not planning to," said Olivia back with a tired smirk, proving to Bruce that she was alright. She glanced around at the instrument panels, which were all blinking red. "So now what Bruce?"

"Trust me." He pressed three quick icons on the digital screen.

"Eject sequence initiated," chimed the robotic voice of the computer.

"Bruce, what have you done?" teased Olivia.

Outside, the construction workers watched with fascination as the Tumbler seemed to shape shift like a Transformer right before their eyes. All of a sudden, two Batpods emerged out of the wrecked machine, the Tumbler self-destructing behind them. The workers were thrilled to have seen it. "Ok," said one, "Since I guessed weird bat-themed motorcycles in the pool, pay up!" The others grudgingly complied.

"So what's the plan?" yelled Olivia to Bruce as they rode side by side. His Batpod sported two 30mm ant-tank rifles, while hers didn't. 'You better not have made mine a reconnaissance variant Wayne!'

"I'll deal with the truck while you take out the tank."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"You have one AGM-114 Hellfire missile. Make it count." Olivia smiled to herself. She loved that man to the death, so she ought to trust him more.

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The ever increasing hopelessness of their situation was starting to dawn on Jim Gordon. Seeing the first exit ramp since they entered, he pointed it out to the driver. "We need to get topside and get air support now!" The diver threw the steering wheel hard right, nearly toppling the vehicle but maintaining their speed as they emerged into the night air.

Back in the truck, the driver had bled out, so the Joker decided that things were only done right if you did it yourself. While the T-54/55 waited patiently by the truck, the Joker shoved the limp corpse of the driver out of the cab. "Excuse me, it's my turn to drive." He shifted the truck into gear and roared out of Lower Fifth, Kern in the tank just ahead to the right.

A wannabe tough guy was fixing his face using the left side mirror of his black BMW. Right after getting his grin just right, the two Batpods shot past the car, clipping off the mirror.

"Where are you Hawk? We need support now!"

"Coming up on your position," replied the pilot of the GPD AH-6 Little Bird, acquired from the US Army (Gotham possessed far different security needs from other major cities, comparable to areas like Baghdad or Fallujah). Armed with two GAU-19 miniguns and two 7-tube Hydra rocket pods, it was a formidable piece of equipment.

The Joker put the truck into a gentle turn, singing along with the radio. "Every mornin', every evenin', oh we got fun. Ain't much money, oh but honey, oh we got fun! HAH HAH!"

Two kids were playing shoot 'em up cowboys in the back seat of their sedan when all of a sudden the cars in front of them burst into flames, Bruce clearing path for him and Olivia with his cannon. "Wow!" breathed the two boys, psyched that they saw the Batman and Batgirl themselves.

Kern fired a second HEAT round from the 100mm gun, this one going wild and blasting the front of a department store. Gordon was about to give up hope when he spotted the searchlight of the Little Bird. "There we go, the cavalry's arrived!"

"Man they weren't kidding," said the copilot, "That's a Russki T-54/55. Are you sure we can take it out?"

"Yep," replied the pilot, a former Apache gunner from the Gulf War. "The Hydras have armor piercing warheads. Thing will be toast once we're through with it."

Realizing exactly what the pilot did, the Joker picked up his radio. "Ok, rack em up, rack em up, rack en up."

Hefting a SA-7 "Grail" Man Portable SAM (surface to air missile), Garret Pearle locked on to the infrared signature of the Little Bird. "Welcome to the game. Bang bang you're dead!" He fired, the round impacting with the engine, shredding it to bits.

"That's not good," whispered Gordon.

The chopper collapsed out of the sky, slamming in flames on the street below.

"Ok that's not good!" yelled Gordon as the RG-33 smashed the wreckage aside.

The Joker slammed his hands on the steering wheel in triumph. "I love this job, I really do!"

Bruce shot his way through the glass doors of a mall, him and Olivia dodging and weaving between pillars and startled shoppers. "Go left!" he ordered Olivia. "I'll meet up with you."

Barreling after the RG-33, Kern's tank five yards off his side, the Joker kept giggling uncontrollably, having too much fun from the whole situation. Out of the corner of his left eye, he spotted Olivia barrel out of an alley, the Batpod's wheels swiveling to maintain a stable platform. "Ok, Batgirl's here," he muttered. An explosion to his right announced the entrance of Bruce. "And there's the Batman."

The two heroes moved into formation, hurtling straight at the two vehicles, Olivia in front moving toward the t-54-55 while Bruce was about four yards behind coming at the truck. Kern, seeing the Batgirl in his sights grinned wolfishly. "Canister!" he yelled, relishing what the hundreds of steel balls would do to the bitch; the 100mm gun would be like a massive shotgun.

Activating a switch on the Batpod, Olivia waited for the chime of missile lock before firing the Hellfire missile, which streaked toward the tank. Kern was just about to unleash the canister round when the missile impacted right at the join between the turret and the hull. Designed in the fifties, the T-54/55 was no match for the Hellfire. The tank brewed up spectacularly, the turret sailing twenty feet into the air. The Joker furrowed his brows at the annoyance, turning his attention back to the Batman once the Batgirl sailed past. "Oh you want to play come on."

Bruce fired off two cables, which latched onto the truck's front grill. He ducked underneath the trailer, weaving in between the streetlamps before attaching the other end of the line to the pavement, Bruce and Olivia turning around by using the vertical walls as leverage.

"He missed!" hollered one of the clown henchmen. However, he spoke to soon as the line caught and the truck flipped over, smashing into the street with a loud crash.

The RG-33 stopped in the middle of the road, the driver slipping out. "Where are you going? Get back here officer!" yelled Gordon.

Jumping out of the cab, an AK-74 carbine in his hands, the Joker leapt to his feet, the carbine going off accidently making him stumble. He got back up and started hosing cars, trying to get the two heroes attention. Sure enough, they were coming straight at him. The Joker stood still, staring them down in a game of chicken. "Come on I want you to hit me," he mumbled.

Bruce and Olivia kept firm on their course.

"Come on hit me."

The two heroes accelerated.

"Hit me! Come on!"

At the last moment, Bruce and Olivia swerved out of the way in different directions, the Batpods not able to handle such tight turns. They rolled over, bodies tumbling on the asphalt. Smirking, the Joker skipped over, his henchmen inspecting the bodies. At the same time, they attempted to remove the masks, both getting shocked by about five hundred volts of electricity. The Joker was on them like a hawk, laughing and kicking them for their stupidity. Pulling out his switchblade, he was about to go to work on the Batman when he felt the barrel of a shotgun on the back of his head. "ARRGH! Can you just please give me a minute?"

The officer flipped him over, the shotgun pointed at his face. "We got you, you son of a bitch!" growled Elliot, smiling in triumph.

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The rear door to the RG-33 opened to reveal a stunned Harvey. "Stabler?" He grinned in realization. "You do like to play things pretty close to the chest."

"We got him Harvey," replied Elliot, clasping the DA's hand firmly.

"Mr. Dent, Mr. Dent," chorused Nick Ganzler of GCN, part of the media vultures that had already gathered at the crime scene. "How does it feel to be a hero?"

"I'm no hero. Elliot Stabler and Gotham's finest, they're the heroes."

"Has your office been working with the Batman and Batgirl all along?"

"No, but I trusted them to do the right thing, which is saving my ass."

"That's enough," shouted Dani Beck, parting through the crowd. "Let the man be!"

"Thanks detective," replied Harvey, reaching a personal escort driven by Breslin. "Now if you don't mind, I have a date with a pretty upset girlfriend."

"No problem counselor," said Dani, watching the car drive away. Hearing her phone ring, she answered it. "Beck."

"Is Dent on the way?"

"Yes sir he is."

"And the girl."

Dani sighed, whishing she wasn't mixed up in all of this but knowing there was no other option. "I'm heading to pick her up now."

"Excellent. Things are all falling into place, Waugh, Waugh, Waugh."

**A/N: And another cliffhanger. I just can't help myself!**

**I hoped you liked Penguin's little gift to the Joker.**

**Next up, an interrogation that will blow your breath away, Kathy has something to tell Elliot, and has the little scare Bruce had given him a knew outlook? Plus, a little SVU teaser regarding the Joker's identity.**

**Please Review!**


	16. Chapter 16: Good CopBad Bats

**A/N: Hello from the good ol' US of A. Sorry it took so long folks, but there was no internet connection where I was staying so I had to use the WiFi of a local McDonalds; bummer right. Hope you all stayed with me, for there will be one chapter coming Wednesday as well.**

**Thrilled by the response to Penguin's surprise. Had fun writing it **** To see what they were up against, just Wikipedia T-54/55.**

**Anyway, we left off with Elliot (you really think I could have killed him off?) capturing the Joker. And now comes all the goodies that follow.**

**In this coming chapter: We SVU fans find out the Joker's identity (not officially though), Kathy has something to tell Elliot, Bruce has an epiphany, and Harvey Dent has something happen to him.**

**Disclaimer: Dick Wolf and Christopher Nolan have shown me who really owns these pieces unfortunately. However, every day they don't turn them over to me people will die. Just kidding **

**Please Review!**

Chapter 16: Good Cop/ Bad Bats

Upon his capture and booking at MCU, Detectives Fin and Gordon made a catalogue of all the Joker's personal effects. It was an odd collection that was collected on the evidence table before them. Knife, Knife, Knife, Knife, Key, Key, Scorched Piece of Wire, Knife, Knife, Blowtorch, Lighter, Second Blowtorch, Bowie Knife," the two Detectives looked quizzically at the Joker, who shrugged at them. Glaring back in response, hoping against all hope that he got a stroke and died a horrible, painful death, they chucked him in the holding cell with his clown henchmen, MCU having recovered four of them. "Look at these ugly bastards," remarked Fin, staring at them with contempt.

"I don't feel very good." moaned one Eldon Baloch, a pedophile/schizophrenic recruited right out of Arkham.

"You're a cop killer," yelled Fin. "You're lucky to be feeling anything below the neck!"

"Please!" cried Baloch, lunging at the bars, desperate for aid.

"Step away from the bars," droned the jailer, unconcerned with any of this.

"My insides hurt." The Joker just sat on the concrete bench, staring ahead clad in his green suit vest, his makeup starting to fade around the edges. One could just make out the reddish burn scar on his chin, grotesque without the covering effect of the white paint.

"STAND AWAY!" shouted Elliot, striding into the bullpen, pointing at the holding cell. "All of you! I don't want anything for his scumbag lawyer to use you understand?"

"Yes Cap!" they chorused. All of them had one experience with a piece of slime attorney who managed to get a perp off the street due to a technicality. With multiple cop killings under his belt, none of them wanted that for the Joker.

"Smart move." Elliot turned around to see Mayor Garcia, looking a little sleep deprived but happy nonetheless. "Back form the dead Stabler?" he asked, firmly grasping his hand.

"Couldn't risk my family's safety, and besides, if the Joker knew me at all he'd think I wouldn't put my wife or kids through the agony of thinking I was dead. That was his weakness apparently. He didn't expect me to do the unexpected." Elliot was still surprised the plan had worked, though happily so.

Mayor Garcia nodded. "Good job Stabler; so what have we got on this son of a bitch?"

His small smile faltering, Elliot took a glance in the Joker's direction. "Nothing. No matches on prints or DNA through CODUS, state, local, federal, or any other database. No dental records to speak of, so therefore no social security number or official documents. Clothing is custom designed, no labels. Nothing in his pockets but knives, blowtorches, burn instruments, and lint. No name; a bunch of aliases that lead nowhere. The guy's a blank slate."

"What are the aliases?"

Taking out a piece of scratch paper, Elliot began to read off the list. "William Lewis, Louis Williams, Lucas Miggums, Joseph Kerr, Jack Napier, R. E. D. Hood, the Magician of Mayhem, the Jester of Genocide, George Washington…"

"Ok that's disturbing," interrupted the Mayor, not wanting him to continue. "Anyway, good job Stabler. You should get some rest, for tomorrow you take the big job." Elliot looked up at him, slightly confused. "You have no say in the matter Commissioner Stabler!"

The entire bullpen erupted in a round of applause, everyone excited for their boss, well now the big boss. Eventually, it had died except for one pair of hands, those of the Joker, clapping away.

That image was burned into Elliot's mind. While normally once a perp with the levels of evidence that they had on the Joker would bring the words "Open and shut case" to the forefront of his mind, one learned not to underestimate the Joker, or William Lewis, or Joe Kerr, or whatever the hell his name was. The man was an enigma to any rational observer.

The buzzing of his cell phone jarred him out of his thoughts. "Stabler," he answered.

"Good evening Commissioner," purred a female voice on the other end.

Elliot chuckled. "Hey Liv. Is your night going well?"

"It's infinitely better now that I heard you got the Joker. So I take it the plan worked?"

"Like a charm, but how did you know the mayor promoted me? The vultures in the media haven't covered it yet."

"Let's just say I have my ways." He could see her bat her eyelashes over the phone.

"Ok, who was it? Fin or Lenny?"

"Actually it was Gordon."

"The rookie? Since when did you get so chummy?"

"He's a good cop, and his wife is really nice. She showed up at the precinct about a week ago when you were on one of your Joker dragnets. Since you are now in the big seat, you could promote him to lead MCU."

"I'm not promoting a rookie. If he's as good as you say, he can wait until the person I'm considering now is done."

"And who is this lucky person?"

Elliot grinned in the receiver. "Well, if she's worth her salt she'd know."

"Ok, I'll tell Dana the good news," Olivia giggled.

"You know I was talking about you right?"

"Of course you dolt. Kathy and the kids are probably very excited that you're really alive."

"Uhh…"

"You mean you haven't told them?" Taking Elliot's silence as a yes, she yelled into the phone. "Elliot Stabler! You march home right this instant and see your family!"

"Alright Liv alright. Nice talking with you."

"Nice talking to you too El. Good night." Hearing a click on the other end, Elliot rubbed his hand through his hair. 'This is going to be tough.'

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Sitting in his customized black Lincoln towncar, Penguin puffed on the cigarette perched at the top of his fancy Stirling silver holder, a smug grin on his face. There on two TV monitors installed by the manufacturer for an extra grand were his targets, bound and gagged. When the Joker, or more precisely his deputy Garret Pearle, contacted him last night after delivery of the T-54/55 to ask him this favor, he had been rather excited at this possibility. It meant the end was soon coming.

For the plan to work, he'd have to use his two moles within MCU, an action that could prove disastrous since both Maroni and Delia knew who they were. He wasn't worried about them though, for tomorrow they, along with all the Gang of Seven, would be dead and he would be in charge of the Gotham Underworld.

He chuckled evilly as the Joker popped up in his thoughts. The plan he had hatched would grant him half of the Gang of Seven's manpower and territory, a fee for service kind of thing. "That fool thinks I'll share Gotham with him?" He was the Oswald Cobblepot, soon to be the de facto king of Gotham. No one could compare to him, not his former employers, not the city's leaders, and certainly not one trumped up clown from Alabama or wherever he came from (his digging unearthed the first known sighting of the Joker nineteen years ago, who at the time went by the alias William Lewis, for a rape homicide in the southern state). He would rule, he would control everything, and once Dent and the two meddling bats were dealt with no one would be able to stop him.

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Having been in a daze for the past two days, Kathy Stabler barely heard the knock on her door as she laid on the couch after putting the kids to bed. Shambling to the door, she pulled it open only to have her jar drop upon seeing her husband standing there. "Elliot?" she asked, unsure of weather this was a dream or not.

"I'm sorry Kathy, I couldn't risk your safe…" He was cut off as she slapped him hard across the face, a red welt forming on his cheek. Sobbing tears of both grief and joy, she threw herself at Elliot, pulling him into the house.

"I'm so glad you're alive. Don't fucking do that again!"

"I'm not planning on it. Even with a Kevlar vest that bullet hurt."

She chuckled against his chest, knowing that was the classic Elliot Stabler humor. We need to talk Elliot, but for now go say hi to the kids. They may be asleep but I'm sure they wouldn't mind being woken up for this."

Smiling, Elliot gave his wife a deep kiss before heading upstairs, trying not to make too much noise. Reaching the hallway, he knocked softly one each one of his children's doors, all of them there with Maureen visiting for the weekend. "What is it mom?" asked a sleepy Kathleen who was dragging her feet like a zombie out of her room. Her eyes went wide seeing her dad.

"Hey Katie," said Elliot softly.

"DADDY!" His middle daughter nearly tackled him, clutching him tighter than her mother had.

"Katie, what's going… DAD!" Seeing the scene before her, Maureen ran over joining in the embrace.

"DADDY, you're alive!" The twins rushed out of their room to complete the Father and children moment, soon all of them weeping uncontrollably. "Please don't ever leave us daddy," sobbed Lizzie through her tears.

"Never again guys, never again."

"Did Batman and Batgirl save you daddy?" asked Dickie, choking back a sob.

Elliot allowed a small smile to creep across his lips. "Actually son, this time I saved them."

All four of his kids smiled as well. "Well of course Dickwad," said Kathleen, her usual sassiness returning. "Dad always finds a way to save the day." Elliot felt a tear fall form his eye as he hugged his children closer.

An hour later, Elliot had put the now deliriously happy kids to bed once again and was sitting on the couch with his wife drinking hot chocolate. "Once again Kath, I'm sorry for putting you and the kids through all of this. We just needed to catch this guy and I didn't want him targeting you like he ended up doing with Alex to get to Harvey."

"I understand Elliot, but it really hurt me and the kids. They missed you so much over the past two days and I was so heartbroken that the new one wouldn't know his father."

"One again, I'm sorr… Wait, new one?" Elliot's face was contorted in compete shock.

Kathy smiled tiredly. "I was going to tell you last night, but then this whole mess started. Elliot, I'm pregnant."

His jaw was still halfway to the floor. "How far along are you?"

"About three weeks. Honey, are you mad?"

"Why would I be mad? I love my kids and you're giving me another beautiful angel. I love you so much." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her passionately.

"I love you too," she mumbled against his lips as they lowered onto the couch.

He was just about to remove her shirt when his phone buzzed. "Goddamn it! Stabler… This better be important Lenny… WHAT!... Don't do anything, I'm coming over." He hung up and looked at his wife apologetically. "Kath…"

"Go Elliot. I understand completely."

"I love you," he repeated, kissing her on the lips before moving downward and kissing her still flat stomach. "And I love you little one."

"We love you too Elliot," he heard her say as he dashed for the car. Just when he thought he managed to beat the Joker this happens. Knowing what to do, he removed a hidden phone from a secret compartment in his sedan, encrypted by the two who gave it to him. He sent a quick text message, hoping they were listening.

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"So Commissioner Stabler? You're right, that does have a nice ring to it."

"Aren't I always right Bruce?" asked Olivia with a wide smile. Seeing her best friend's lip twitch, it immediately turned into a scowl. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Bruce laughed, causing her to smirk as well. God he loved seeing her smile, especially after the little scare during the fight. If anything had actually happened to her… "Now that you're a tank killer, how do you feel?" He knew that would definitely perk her up.

By the massive, devilish grin that appeared on her face he'd have said that he succeeded. "Oh Bruce, not all ladies would feel kick-ass from destroying a massive Soviet tank, but I ain't all ladies. That was awesome!"

He had to admit she was right about being unique, even though Olivia was just joking around. In his heart Bruce still knew that he didn't deserve her in the slightest, but almost experiencing what life would be like without her, he was willing to take that chance that maybe she felt the same way. Long ago to comfort him, Alfred had told him stories of how his parents met. Thomas Wayne, Bruce's father, had been best friends with Martha Willis, Bruce's mother. For nearly three years he loved her from afar, not wanting to jeopardize their friendship, but in senior year of college he finally told her how he felt. One year later, they were married, and Alfred had told him that his father's most fond saying was "Never be afraid of love." Bruce was certain of that now. "Liv, can I tell you something?"

Olivia turned as stared at him intently. "What is it?"

He had opened his mouth to speak when the secure phone link between them and MCU rang. It was only equipped to take calls from Elliot or Olivia, and since Olivia was here it had to be the new Police Commissioner. Seeing Olivia look at him, Bruce motioned to the phone. "Go ahead Liv, it can wait."

She nodded and glanced at the screen. "Motherfucker!" she snarled. "Bruce you better look at this."

Seeing the screen, a ball of ice started to form in the pit of his stomach. "Suit up."

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Bursting into the bullpen, the rage evident in his eyes, Elliot spotted nearly his entire team gathered around the interrogation room. "Where is he?" he snarled.

"In interrogation room one," replied Gordon.

"Has he said anything yet?" at the shake of the rookie detective's head, Elliot stormed into the room, composing himself quickly. The Joker would feed off his anger if he didn't use it wisely.

"Evening… Commissioner." As by standard interrogation protocol, the lights were all off except for one set of fluorescent lights near the door (at half power) and one desktop lamp with a low watt bulb, not enough to give any good light but enough to ruin any night vision.

Sporting a smile that was anything but comforting, Elliot pulled up a chair across from the Joker and sat down. "Harvey Dent never made it home last night."

"Oh, how tragic."

"Where is he?"

The Joker faked a look of puzzlement. "How could I do anything to him?" He lifted his manacled hands. "I was right here all night. [_licks side of mouth_] Who'd you leave him with, your people? That's assuming they still are your people, and not Penguin's." Elliot's eyes narrowed involuntarily, the Joker spotting an opening. "Ah, you care for your team. You don't find the people you manage expendable like me or Penguin. So Commissioner, does it scare you? [_licks side of mouth_] Does it hurt to know how alone you really are? Wait a moment, you can't be alone; you have the lovely Lt. Benson."

"Don't you say anything about her," growled Elliot, seeing an opportunity to push a bit.

"Oh, strike a nerve did I? The incorruptible Benson and Stabler, scourge of rapists, kiddie rapists, and organized crime across the city. The only team that rivals you two in fame are Batman and Batgirl."

"You know, if Olivia was here she' know exactly what to do with you."

"How so? [_licks side of mouth_]"

"She knows how to read people, to get inside their minds and expose their true fears. I wonder what she'd think of you; what fears would she see inside that black heart of yours?"

"You two are close. Did you do her? [_licks side of mouth_] It would explain a lot." Seeing his hands ball into fists, the Joker chuckled. "I see you want to hit me. Go ahead, I won't press charges. Go ahead and engage in your desires. You wrap yourself around all those rules, constraining yourself, while labeling a true free spirit like myself a nut. Well, maybe only those who don't conform to your rules are truly free."

Elliot squeezed his fists until there was no circulation left in them and then let go, smiling sweetly. "You're insane," he chuckled.

"Am I Commissioner? Or are you the insane one, what with allowing yourself to be bound by unnatural rules. Maybe, by shunning those rules, I'm the sanest one of all."

Slamming his fists on the table, Elliot reached over and screamed in the Joker's face. "Where is Dent you son of a bitch!"

The Joker's eyes flicked to the side for a moment before returning to gaze into Elliot's, a dark brown almost black that sent chills down his spine. "What's the time?"

"What does that matter?"

"Well, [_giggles_] depending on the time, he could be in one spot or several."

Seeing there was no point in continuing this, Elliot decided to pass the buck. "If we're going to play games," he uncuffed the Joker. "I need a cup of coffee." He rose and began to exit.

"Oh, is this the classic good cop/bad cop routine?"

"Not exactly," smirked Elliot, leaving the room.

Right then, all the lights turned on, revealing two large black shapes behind the Joker. One of them grabbed the green dyed hair and slammed his head into the table. Shielding his eyes from the bright lights, the Joker looked up to see the Batman staring at him. "Never start with the head, it makes the victim all fuzzy. He can't feel the next…" He was interrupted by a punch to the back of his shoulder, the Batgirl appearing to his right. "There, you see. Who said girls can't hit?"

"You wanted us," growled Olivia, "Here we are." She took in the Joker's appearance. The last time they saw him, at Bruce's party, the clown's makeup had been meticulously applied, his clothes relatively neat and clean. Now though, much of the white face paint was smudged or entirely gone, exposing the skin of his forehead and chin. The ragged burn mark was completely visible, Olivia knowing it had to have come from a pretty nasty flame or instrument, but her sympathies were not to be wasted on this trash.

"Exactly, here you two are. I've been studying you from the beginning of your little reign, with the Narrows Riots and whatnot. It usually take a lot to peak my interest, but with you it wasn't at all hard, I mean come on! Two people who dress like bats, what more could a guy want. I took this little job for the mob to see what you were going to do, and you didn't disappoint. First, you let seven people die. Then, [_licks side of face_] you let Dent take your place. Even for a guy like me that's cold."

"Where's Dent," said Bruce, getting impatient but knowing the Joker had to have his say.

"In good time, in good time." The Joker leaned in, as if to have a conversation with them and them only. "You see, our little mob friends want things to go back to the way things were; our little bird friend wants things to go back to the way things were but with him in charge instead of a seven member committee, but you and I both know the truth, there's no going back. You've changed things," he pointed at the both of them. "These changes can't be undone, but you know what, I like these changes. They appeal to me."

"Then why'd you want to kill us?" Bruce asked.

"Kill you?' The Joker broke out into an uncontrollable bout of giggling, rocking back and forth in his chair and exposing his white teeth which contrasted greatly with his overall scruffy appearance. "What makes you think I want to kill you? I don't want to kill you! What would I do without you?" he gestured to them with his arms. "Go back to ripping off mob dealers or trying to outsmart Penguin, no," he shook his head. "No. You see," his voice dropped into a rasp. "You two, complete [_licks side of mouth_] me."

"You're garbage who kills for money," hissed Olivia, arms folded across her chest.

The Joker shook his head, smiling. "You think that all I care about is money?"

"No, not all you care about." Olivia picked up several reports Elliot had left on the table and tossed them at the Joker, the paper making a slap as it hit the aluminum. "You see, though we have no idea who you are or where you come from, we still have a trail on you. You, my friend, are a rapist as well as a contract killer and armed robber," she said with disgust. If there was one criminal she hated with a passion it was rapists.

Looking sidelong at her, the Joker clapped his hand three times slowly. "Very perceptive of you, but you are forgetting one thing about criminals. Their MO changes over time, evolves you might say. I learned long ago that to breed chaos, to see what really affects humanity to its core, you had to avoid the personal crimes and focus on the more detached set."

"That may be so but you're still a piece of trash."

"Don't talk like one of them. You are not one of them, even if you'd like to be. To them, you're just a freak, like me, or Penguin for that matter. A prop to be used when the need arises, but when the need passes, they'll cast you out," Bruce and Olivia stared at the Joker, their eyes narrowing inside their masks. This man was the textbook definition of a deranged psychopathic murderer. "Like a leper. You see, their morals, their code, [_licks side of mouth_] it's a bad joke, to be dropped at the first sign of trouble. They're only as good as the world allows them to be. I'll show you, when the chips are down these civilized people," he laced that word with disdain, "Will eat each other. The only real way to live is to cast a side those false codes and irrational morals, for only then will you be truly free. Mankind has long sought true, everlasting freedom. Over the centuries they used many different techniques, meditation, prayer, writing constitutions, ecstasy, but none worked because they still had a code of rules. I have discarded that, and have achieved the pinnacle of human enlightenment. You see, I'm not a monster, I'm just ahead of the curve." He leaned back, smirking.

Lunging over the table, Bruce picked up the Joker and held him high by the scruff of his suit vest. "Where's Dent?" he growled in his face, Olivia right to the left of him.

If he was fazed, the Joker didn't show it. "All these rules, and you'll think they'll save you."

"Bruce snarled and threw the Joker against the tile lined column separating the one-way windows, forearm pushing against his throat. To calm the gathered MCU squad, Elliot reassured them, "He's in control."

"We have one rule!"

"Then that's the rule you'll have to break to know the truth."

"Which is?" asked Olivia, less loud but not at all less threatening.

"As I said before, the only sensible way to live is without rules, and tonight you're going to break your one rule."

"We're considering it, grinned Olivia evilly, using standard interrogation technique 101, make the perp scared of you.

What the Joker said in response shocked both of them to their core. "Well, there's only minutes left so you're going to have to play my little game if you want to save one of them."

Bruce and Olivia turned their heads to stare into each other's eyes. "One of them?" The looked back on the Joker, who was grinning, and saw something they hadn't noticed before. They were staring at the face of pure evil.

**A/N: Ending with another cliffhanger! I know, I'm terrible. Not as bad as the Joker but bad nonetheless.**

**Just when Bruce was about to tell Liv, the Joker had to strike. I'm sorry for that but there is a plan in my madness, even if it doesn't look like I'm a "guy with a plan" **

**I hope you liked the little revelation with the Joker's identity. Congrats to katechoco for guessing it. I hope you noticed all the little bits of "Her Negotiation" that I put in there, and for the final building scene there will be bits of "Beast's Obsession." **** I want to just say that the enigma that the Joker is still stands, just as the enigma that Lewis was existed in the show.**

**Next time, they must make the impossible choice, and will Bruce fall? Will he reconsider what he vowed to do in this chapter? You'll have to wait.**

**Please Review.**


	17. Chapter 17: Tragedy

**A/N: Hello from the good ol' US of A. Thank God I'm back home, and sorry I'm late. I had to endure two plane cancellations and a last minute standby flight that took me through some pretty scary weather to get back home (which is the great city of Houston by the way). I typed this all on the plane and the United Lounge in O'Hare Airport. It was a lot of work but only the best for my fans. **

**In my opinion, this part is the saddest part of the entire trilogy. In this version, we will see a broken Bruce, but for completely different reasons. What will Olivia do? What will Alfred do? Read on to find out.**

**Disclaimer: Though they don't deserve it, Dick and Chris own SVU and TDK, not me **

**Please Review!**

Chapter 17: Tragedy

_What the Joker said in response shocked both of them to their core. "Well, there's only minutes left so you're going to have to play my little game if you want to save one of them." _

_Bruce and Olivia turned their heads to stare into each other's eyes. "One of them?" The looked back on the Joker, who was grinning, and saw something they hadn't noticed before. They were staring at the face of pure evil._

Grinning, the Joker licked his lips in pure amusement. "You know," he said to Bruce, "For a while, I thought you really were Dent, the way you threw yourself after her [_giggles_]."

Bruce's mouth dropped in realization, glancing quickly at Olivia, who was completely shocked as well. Their eyes said it all. "He took Alex."

Without warning, Bruce hefted the Joker and slammed him onto the aluminum table, leaving the laughing psychopath with Olivia while he grabbed a chair and went to block the door. The Joker attempted to sit up but was stopped by a punch to the gut from Olivia, who was as angry as her best friend.

Realizing what he was doing, Elliot pushed past Lenny Briscoe and booked for the door, hoping to get there before the Batman jammed the door. While he would have loved for the Joker to get his just desserts, any half-assed defense attorney would have a field day with a case of police brutality. However, the chair was firmly in place before he could reach the door.

Still smirking, the Joker turned to Olivia. "Does Harvey know about your boyfriend and his little bunny?" With a snarl, Olivia grabbed his shoulder and smashed his head into the glass window, creating a shattered maze of spider cracks.

"Where are they!" she yelled, Bruce joining her. 'He might be in love with Alex but she's my cousin as well.'

The Joker was unfazed, and actually seemed to enjoy the entire situation. 'Why shouldn't I. The entire plan is coming to fruition.' "You see now, killing is about making a choice."

Snarling, Bruce brought a fist right into his face. "Where are they!"

"You have to choose," he continued as if the punch hadn't happened, "Between one life and the other. Between the logical choice and the emotional one. So who is it my friends, your friend the smart, dashing District Attorney, or his blushing bride to be?" Both their fists collided with the side of his face, but he just collapsed laughing maniacally as he curled up in a ball on the floor from the laughing. "HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!" He shook his head in amazement, struggling to raise himself up from the floor. "You have nothing," the Joker told the seething Bruce and Liv, "Nothing to threaten me with. For you can't threaten the man who wants nothing tangible, nothing that can be given to him physically. It must be disconcerting to know that for all your strength, all your brains, you are in fact completely powerless in the face of a threat."

"I will kill you!" spat Bruce, grabbing the Joker by the lapels of his vest. He couldn't let Alex die, not while she still believed his lie was real. She deserved to live and be happy, even if he couldn't save Dent as a result.

Olivia punched the Joker in the side of his ribs for added measure. She couldn't let Alex die, not while she meant so much to Bruce. If Alex died, then Bruce died inside. If Bruce died inside, then she died for real.

"Oh don't worry," said the Joker in a hasty voice, as if spilling his guts in an interrogation. "I'm going to tell you where they are, both of them [_licks side of mouth_]. And that's the point. You're going to have to choose. He's at 250 52nd Street, and she's at the corner of Avenue X and Cicero." Bruce hurled him on the floor, leaving him with a kick in the ribs. "Hurry guys, you don't have much time!" Bruce and Olivia left a room echoing with his cackling laughter.

"Which one are you going for?" asked Elliot breathlessly, ordering Gordon and several uniforms to follow him.

"Alex," rasped Bruce without any hesitation, Olivia nodding in confirmation. He threw open the rear access door, Olivia and the MCU cops following.

Elliot guided his group into two squadcars. "We'll get Dent!" he hollered as they sped away. Bruce and Olivia mounted their Batpods, Olivia noticing the new determination in her best friend's gestures. It made her more resolved than ever to sacrifice her own happiness for his, which was all she really cared about. 'I'm not going to let you down Bruce. You will have your love back if I have anything to do it.' The duo sped away for Cicero, going full throttle.

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The first thing Harvey felt as his woozy brain fought to regain consciousness was the feeling of intense pain in the back of his head. Though feeling the level of sluggishness so common among humanity in the early mornings and hot afternoons, he found the inner strength to will his arms to rub his head.

Nothing.

'Huh?' Harvey was puzzled that such a simple task was proving impossible. He tried to move his arms again, and again nothing happened. 'This is weird,' he thought. 'Where am I?' His eyes still refused to open.

"Hello?"

Harvey shifted, sure he had heard something.

"HELLO!"

His eyes burst open, now knowing he heard not only a voice, but the voice of Alex Cabot, the woman he loved. Scanning everywhere for her, Harvey noticed he was tied up in a chair in an abandoned warehouse, barrels of gasoline with C4 plastic explosive taped to them. Set on one, was a phone. "Can anybody hear me?" yelled Alex's voice out of it.

"Alex? Is that you?" he answered finally, his memory returning in spots.

"Harvey, thank God you're alive!" Alex was so relieved. Waking up after being kidnapped by still unknown persons, it was a blessing that the man she loved wasn't dead. "Are you ok?"

Harvey struggled against his restraints, angry beyond belief. Unlike Alex, the pistol butt to the head hadn't erased the memory of his abduction; Breslin had betrayed him, delivering Harvey to the goons (either belonging to the Joker or Penguin, though it really didn't matter which). He was going to kill the dirty cop who did this to Alex as well, but he knew that he had to stay calm for her. "I'm fine Alex. I'm in some kind of warehouse, wired up to these oil drums."

"I know, me too," Alex replied, a tear falling down her cheek. She didn't want to die like this, not telling Harvey how she really felt. 'At least Bruce will have some closure,' she thought, remembering the letter.

Their Batpods going at the max speed of eighty mph, Bruce and Liv charged down Lower 5th, passing the wreckage of their earlier run-in with the Joker and his goons. His mind was laser focused on a single mission, and Olivia was worried that Bruce would break if they failed. She was not going to let that happen.

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In the interrogation room at MCU, the Joker sat on the floor twiddling his thumbs comically, watched over by a stoic Sgt. Lenny Briscoe. "I want my phone call," said the Joker out of the blue, his voice a nasally whine. "I want it. I want my phone call."

"That's nice," replied Briscoe calmly, as if speaking to a child. "However, life doesn't always give us what we want."

"Good point," mumbled the Joker, looking intently at the hardened cop. "How many of your friends [_licks side of mouth_] did I kill?" Briscoe gave him a puzzled glare, as if not knowing what to make of that. "People who say that killers always relive their kills are naive fools. If you have the blood that I have on my hands, it's quite easy to forget a face here and a name there, [_licks side of mouth_] especially if one doesn't really care about whom one kills."

Briscoe laughed mirthlessly, trying to contain his anger and homicidal impulses. He knew the Joker was trying to bait him into doing something stupid, and it took all of his self-control to resist the urge. "You know, I'm a forty year man, came in straight out of high school. I was chasing down robbers before you were a gleam in your white trash father's eye. When you're in this job for that long, you learn the difference between the arrogant punks who need a lesson in manners, and the sick freaks like you who'd just get off on it. So to answer your question, you killed sixteen of my friends."

'Sixteen,' mouthed the Joker, realizing this was going to be harder than he thought. 'Not that I'm not up to a challenge.'

At the Holding cell, Eldon Baloch was holding himself up using the bars, unable to stand on his own two feet. "Please, my insides hurt," he moaned to the uniform standing guard.

"I don't really care. Back away!"

Baloch continued as if he didn't hear, a wild gleam in his eye. "The boss said he'd make the voices go away, make us normal for once so that everybody would like us. Said he'd go in and replace them with bright lights, like Christmas!" The obese prisoner began to laugh, which sounded more like seething.

"Didn't I tell you to shut up?" yelled the guard, swiveling his head to see Baloch slumping unconscious to the ground. "Get doc Warner here now," he said into his radio, unlicking the holding cell. "You swine back off!"

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The timer on the remote detonator was slowly ticking down, only 90 seconds remaining before what Alex assumed was mutual destruction. The realization dawned on her that one of them might not make it out alive, and imminent death was the best motivator to reassess one's priorities. She decided that it was time for full honesty. "Harvey listen to me. We don't have much time."

"Don't say that Alex, we're going to be fine."

"No listen, they said something to me before I was left here. They said, that only one of us was going to make it, and they were going to let our friends choose which."

Harvey was floored, for that was a classic Joker move. Penguin or the Gang of Seven never did complex symbolism that didn't involve more than basic intimidation, even if the responsibility for the Joker ultimately was on their shoulders. But he couldn't let Alex give up on hope; he was Harvey Dent after all, the man who made his own luck. "Don't worry Alex, I'm going to find something here I can use to free myself. Do the same, find anything sharp or serrated to cut the ropes." One of the barrels had a jagged piece of metal bolted to the side, and Harvey scooted the chair toward it so he could cut the ropes.

"Harvey, please keep talking to me, just keep talking. I need to hear your voice." He was about to respond when he leaned too far on the chair leg and it toppled, the barrel falling to its side as well. Hearing his grunt, Alex started to panic. "Harvey what is it? What's going on?"

The DA couldn't respond, for the escaping gasoline from the drum was pooling around him forcing him to spit it out of his mouth as it coated the left side of his face.

The two squadcars were going full out, though it was rough going due to the cars that were always present on the streets of Gotham even at this early hour. Elliot cursed and picked up the radio. "This is Commissioner Stabler. All units converge at 250 52nd Street!" The Batman and Batgirl would almost certainly reach Alex, so it was up to him to save Dent. The two might not have gotten along but he was Gotham's White Knight, the only hope for the city.

"Mount the curb!" he yelled at Gordon, who did so for pedestrian traffic was nonexistent this morning.

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"You want to know, why I use a Knife. Why I burn?"

Briscoe was close to cracking, both he and the Joker knew it.

"You see, guns are too quick." He mimed shooting a gun with his thumb and index finger, smirking at the MCU Sergeant's strained face as he fought for self-control. "You can't savor the, uh, little emotions that can only be brought forth with intense but nonlethal pain [_licks side of mouth_]. If you know how to carve or to singe properly, that can be done."

His resolve faltering, Briscoe slammed his fist on the door to try and release some of the anger. The Joker smiled and continued in an even friendlier tone. "In my travels, I've come across many interesting people. One of whom was a traveling psychic, which was all a bunch of shit as expected. He turned out to be a rather sick rapist but he did teach me a thing or two about reading people. Every person no matter how controlled makes little facial movements that betray emotion, and this guy taught me how to read these movements (A/N: _Martin Short in the episode Pure_). He also said that death was the only way for someone to view his or her target's true colors, and he wasn't wrong on that. Right before they died, your friends exposed their true selves to me, so in a way, I know them better than you ever did [_licks side of mouth_]." Needing one more push, he shrugged, gave Briscoe a kind look, and said "You want to know which ones were cowards."

Unable to take it anymore, Briscoe smirked as he removed his suit jacket. "I'm pretty sure you're going to enjoy this asshole."

The Joker cracked his neck, his posture and face the epitome of nonchalance.

"Well then, I'm just going to have to enjoy it even more." He reached for the clown, fist cocked.

In the holding area, the uniforms had dragged the twitching body of Baloch into the middle to be examined by ME Melinda Warner. Slowly, she lifted his oversized T-shirt, something immediately catching her eye. "What are these sutures?" she thought out loud, running a gloved hand over them. "It's almost like they cut him open and then stitched him back up still alive."

Fin and the others were filing their DD5s in the bullpen when the Joker strode out of the interrogation room, a reserved Briscoe held at knifepoint. Fin's gun was out before he even stood up. 'How did that bastard get a knife past us?'

Around him, all the other cops and detectives were yelling for the Joker to drop the knife and release Briscoe, guns trained on him. But the firing window was too narrow, and no one wanted to kill their Sergeant, who was loved by all.

"Lenny you alright?" asked Fin between shouts of "Drop it!"

"It's my damn fault this happened Fin. Just shoot him," he replied evenly.

"What do you want?" yelled Fin.

The entire room went silent before the Joker finally spoke. "I just want my phone call."

All were stunned and confused at the simple request. "Alright, here." Fin tossed him his cell phone which he caught with one hand, the other still holding the knife to Briscoe's neck. He dialed the number he knew by heart.

Back in the holding area, something lit up in Eldon Baloch's abdomen, accompanied by a ring. Warner looked at it puzzled. "Is that a… Cell phone?"

It rang three more times before the C4 explosive planted in Baloch's chest detonated, incinerating all the precinct's defenses and knocking out most present, except Lau Qian and the Joker, who calmly picked up the keys to the cells and skipped over to them.

Lau was trembling on the floor, knowing that his death was imminent. He looked up in his cell to see the Joker rattling the keys in front of him, the black eyes instilling hi with mortal terror. "Hello there Mr. Television." Taking out Fin's phone, he called his men on the outside. "Garrett, it's me. I have the package. Tell our avian friend it's time for phase four."

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"Harvey, please, just talk to me. I need to hear your voice."

Spitting out a mouthful of gasoline, Harvey looked at the clock which had reached forty-five seconds. "It's going to be fine Alex, they're coming for you."

"I know they are but I don't want them to."

Bruce and Olivia reached the warehouse, parking their Batpods and running to the door as fast as they could. Bringing down his fist like the hammer of Thor, Bruce broke the locks on the door and kicked it in, him and Olivia heading for the main hall.

Outside the other warehouse, the gaggle of squadcars pulled onto the unpaved lot in front of it, wheels kicking up clouds of dirt. Grabbing a shotgun from between the seats, Elliot practically jumped out of the car.

Tears running down her face, Alex knew it was time. "I love you Harvey, I realize that now. You are it for me and I'm sorry for hedging all this time. Any life without you is no life at all, and I do have an answer for you. My answer is yes!"

Right after she accepted his proposal, Bruce and Liv threw open the large double doors to the main hall, revealing Harvey on the floor. With a look of pure pain in his eyes, Bruce looked Olivia in the eye, her doing the same. The Joker had pulled yet another one over on them. Without saying a word, they moved to save Harvey.

"NO!" cried Harvey, not wanting his fiancée to die. "No! Why me? WHY ARE YOU COMING FOR ME?" He was squirming so violently that it took both of them to carry him out kicking and screaming. "Alex! Alex!"

Taking even breaths, Alex Cabot resigned herself to her fate. She knew she was going to die and prayed quietly that Harvey could move on, and that Bruce and Olivia could have a happy life together. "Harvey," she said, her voice calm and content. "It's ok. It's alright. I love…" That was all she could say before a fiery inferno engulfed her.

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Bolting for the warehouse, Elliot was nearly thrown back when it virtually disintegrated in a wall of flame, the whole building imploding in on itself while bits of debris were thrown every which way. He was too late.

Yelling a cry of anguish, he made as if to run to the flaming ruin when Gordon and a uniformed officer grabbed his shoulders, restraining him.

At the Cicero St. Warehouse, Bruce and Liv were dragging a screaming Harvey when the building (set to a five second delay so Dent could witness his girlfriend's death live), went up as well, hurling both to the ground. A ball of flame hit Harvey in the face, igniting the gasoline that had stuck there. He screamed and writhed on the ground, the left half of his head on fire, while Bruce and Olivia tried desperately to put it out. All the while, the DA was mumbling "Alex, Alex," over and over again.

Bruce's heart was close to death, seeing the obvious love this man held for Alex. She missed out on this just because of him, because of his fear and irrational hope to get back an innocence lost long ago. He looked over at Olivia, who was as pained as he was. At that moment he knew that no matter what he felt, he didn't deserve her and couldn't ever burden her with him. He loved her too much to do that.

"I'm sorry Harvey," he whispered.

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An hour later, the GFD had gotten the blaze under control, cops and firefighters swarming over the 52nd Street warehouse. Elliot however, was not paying the least bit attention. Instead, he looked over a message from the Batman and Batgirl, announcing that it was Alex he let die, not Harvey.

"Sir," said Gordon, not knowing a good way to break the catastrophic news. He decided to go direct. "There was a bomb blast at MCU. Five dead including Doc Warner, plus ten wounded including Briscoe and Tutuola. The Joker's gone."

Anger building up inside him, Elliot's voice was flat with rage. "And Lau?"

"He's gone too."

It all clicked, the entire chain of events. "He outsmarted all of us. The Joker planned to get caught. He wanted us to lock him in MCU!" With a guttural snarl he stalked off, knowing he needed to see Harvey at Gotham General.

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Seeing the entire situation on the early morning news, Alfred decided it was time to see what Alex's letter said. He had been putting it off, but now that she was dead it seemed appropriate to get closure for his ward. He opened it and took out the letter.

_Dear Bruce,_

_I cannot allow myself in good conscience to continue to lead you on. It's not fair to either me or you. I have decided to marry Harvey Dent. I love him and want to spend the rest of my life with him._

_I have two reasons for this. Firstly is when I told you that when Gotham no longer needed Batman or Batgirl that we could be together, I did mean it, but now I know that the day will not come when you or Liv will not need Batman or Batgirl. The little boy you once were is gone forever Bruce, morphed and changed by the circumstances that we found ourselves in. I'm sorry to put it this bluntly but it has to be said._

_The second reason is far more important than the first, because deep down, I believe that we both kept up this entire charade because we were scared of accepting that we both changed. I am in love with Harvey and have accepted it, and I hope you will accept that you are in love as well, but not with me but with Olivia._

_Before you scoff at this, search deep inside yourself and figure out that my words are true. She loves you as well Bruce, I'm sure of it. She is the only one besides Alfred who knows your pain and I'm confident that you are meant to be together, just like me and Harvey are meant to be._

_No matter what Bruce, I will always be there for you, but only as a friend. I hope that when we meet after you read this you and Olivia will be preparing for your lives together, for both of you deserve happiness. _

_Love, your dear friend,_

_Alex_

Later, he was agonizing over whether or not to tell Bruce of the contents. Alfred was a sure as Alex apparently was that Bruce and Olivia were in love with each other, but the hollow look in his eyes made him doubt himself. Had he been wrong?

"Uncle Alfred?"

Olivia's faint whispering jarred him out of his thoughts. He looked over and saw her dressed in a V-neck T-shirt and jeans, standard detective wear. "Morning Miss Olivia. Is there any change?"

She shook her head, more tears falling form her ghost-like face. "He won't talk to me. He's just sitting there in his suit staring at the skyline. I don't know what to do…" She began sobbing, face buried in her hands.

"There, there Miss Olivia," said Alfred, enveloping her in a comforting hug. "Would you like me to talk with him?"

Sucking in a ragged breath, Olivia was only able to nod her head against his chest.

"Alright. I'll go to him. I want you to sit down and eat something, please." When she complied, he took up a tray and headed for his ward.

Seeing him, it was far worse than she had said. Bruce was just sitting there, his general demeanor screaming that he had lost his hope. "I brought you some breakfast sir."

"What have I done Alfred?" he asked without breaking his stare into the abyss. "I wanted me and Liv to inspire good, not this madness."

"You have inspired good Master Bruce," Alfred replied, setting a hand on his shoulder. "Just remember, you spat in the face of Gotham's criminals; you didn't think there would be casualties? Things were only going to get worse before they got better."

"But Alex Alfred?"

"Alex believed in what you stand for, what Olivia stands for." He bent down and picked up Bruce's helmet, setting it in his hands. "Gotham needs you."

"No Alfred, it needs its true hero, and I let that murdering psychopath blow him half to hell."

"That's why," Alfred said with a small smile, tapping the side of his face, "They're going to have to make due with you."

Turning to leave, he was stopped by Bruce's continued speaking. "She was going to wait for me Alfred, Alex was going to wait. And I, I, I…" he couldn't get the words out. He couldn't say how she died still thinking him and her would be together. The guilt was slowly destroying his soul.

A lone tear rolled down Alfred's cheek, though he was inwardly bawling. 'How could I be so wrong?'

Entering the foyer, he spotted Olivia putting on her coat. "Leaving us Miss Olivia?"

"Yes Uncle Alfred," she replied, her voice full of regret. "I wish I didn't have to, but Elliot's going to need all hands on deck for this. Just tell Bruce that I'm always there if he needs me."

"Of course I will."

She stepped into the elevator, but hit the stop button before the doors closed. "Alfred, that bandit in Burma, did you catch him?"

"Yes we did."

"How?"

"We burned the forest down."

**A/N: And that concludes the saddest part of the entire trilogy. Hope I did everything justice, especially with the revamped storyline.**

**Isn't everything fucked up? They all think the other people are one way when in fact it's exactly the opposite. Poor Bruce, Liv, Alfred, and Alex.**

**Next up, Penguin and the Joker strike, including a deal with a notorious SVU criminal. Also, the birth of Two-Face!**

**Just as an I'm Sorry for delaying so long, I'll leave you with a little tidbit. When the final fight scene comes on the roof, Penguin will be there. **

**Please Review!**


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